You Don't Know Me
by MustLoveMustyPages
Summary: A new girl shows up at Beacon Hills High School. She also happens to be a werewolf. A werewolf with a lot of secrets that pose a threat to the pack. (Following Season 4 canon)
1. Chapter 1

She had been avoiding them all week.

Scott McCall and his "friends" that is.

Honestly, it was exhausting and Lizzie didn't know how much longer she could keep it up. They were in a lot of the same classes and even had lunch at the exact same time. There were only so many more times she could hide out in the library to avoid being discovered.

School had just started up at the end of August, right after she and her father had moved to Beacon Hills. While her father was out of the house for most of the time getting everything sorted out at work, Lizzie was left to figure out everything with school.

She had spent hours last Friday calling back and forth between offices, both in her old and new schools, trying to get her records transferred and signed up for classes.  
Early Monday morning before the sun was even up, Lizzie left her house and went to the main office to pick up her schedule. The secretaries were working overtime that week, trying to make sure everything would go smoothly the first week back. Thankfully they were tired and didn't try to chat with Lizzie much. She just smiled in thanks and went to find her locker and classes before all of the other students started to arrive.

Her previous school had been much larger. It had seemed more like a modern office building with its glass exterior and sharp lines. There were digital smart boards in every classroom and all of the students dressed like they were on the way to a fashion show. Beacon Hills was the complete opposite. The long rows of lockers, the flickering fluorescent lights and blackboards dusted with chalk… it's exactly what Lizzie always imagined high school to be like.

She took in a deep breath and let the smell of lemon cleaner and fresh paint fill her nostrils. As she walked down one of the halls, she trailed her fingers over the metal locker doors. Her finger pads glided over the rough scrapes and dents, over the missing screws and latches. The imperfections were almost comforting in a way.

When Lizzie reached her locker, number 241, she had smiled. The original metal plate was gone and the number was instead written neatly in permanent marker. She lifted up the latch and the locker door opened with a creak.

Just then she heard the first students arriving for the day, their voices echoing down the halls from the front of the building. Quickly, Lizzie empty out the contents of her backpack, filing away her notebooks and folders. She placed her packed lunch on the top shelf, then after sliding a notebook and a handful of pens and pencils into her smaller satchel, she closed the locker and set off to find her first class.

Lizzie was a sophomore, but the transfer credits from her old school put her mostly in junior or senior level classes. The only classes that she had with kids her own age was gym at the end of the day, and first period economics with some teacher named Bobby Finstock.

When she finally found the room for economics, a few people were already seated. Lizzie went to take a step in the room, but immediately a strong scent overcame her, spreading goosebumps up her arms. She froze, with only one step in the door, as her eyes darted around the classroom. Within seconds she identified where it was coming from.

On the far side of the room, a boy had his head down on his desk and he looked like he was sleeping. When Lizzie's eyes found him, his head jerked up almost as if he had sensed her stare.

Lizzie quickly darted back from the door frame out of sight. He hadn't seen her. One more second though and she would have ruined everything. With her back pressed against the wall outside of the classroom, she closed her eyes and gave herself a moment to form a plan.

Then, she was walking back down the hallway, away from first period economics and towards the girl's bathroom that she had passed on the way there. Her heart was pounding in her chest as she pushed open the door and walked inside. Quickly, she scanned under the stalls to make sure no one else was in there. Empty.

That gave Lizzie a small comfort as she glided over to the long line of sinks and mirrors. She placed her hands on either side of the sink, focusing on the cold, white porcelain. It was a sharp contrast to her hot skin, already beaded with sweat. She stared down at her hands, gripping the sink's edge tightly and now fully changed from her simple, short nails into a horrific set of brown claws.

Slowly but surely, as Lizzie focused, the claws began to recede and she began to feel calmer. When her hands at returned to normal, she dared a glance up at the mirror adjacent. Although her long, wavy mess of black hair mostly hid her face, she could still see her eyes, a startling shade of bright blue. They were quite different from her usual green eyes, and sometimes, when Lizzie wasn't terrified by their appearance, she almost thought they glowed.

With one, long drawn out blink, Lizzie thought of her mother, of a memory from when she was younger. It was vague and she didn't know if it was even real. But there were smiles. Lots of smiles and laughter. When she opened her eyes again, they had changed back to green.

Lizzie let out a breath that she didn't realize she'd been holding. Outside of the bathroom the first warning bell rang and she jumped, startled by the unfamiliar sound. It grounded her though, reminding Lizzie that she had to make it through the day, through the week. She dug around in her satchel until she found a large bottle of perfume, cheap but strong. She sprayed it all over her body, coughing as the artificial flower smell clung to her skin.

It was so different than what she had smelled in the classroom. That had been real and full of depth. Although it had only been a moment, Lizzie remembered it perfectly. Cinnamon and pine cones. She knew better than to fall prey to the warm and comforting scent though. It meant that there was probably a whole pack at the school, and if she wasn't careful, they would discover what she was. And if they found her, they would kill her.

* * *

**I myself am not a huge fan of OC stories, but I got this idea in my head months ago and haven't been able to let it go. So, here it is. I've got multiple chapters already written so no worries for now about having writer's block or what not prevent me from updating. The only thing that could stop me is if I lose my fingers... which is probably something I shouldn't be joking about when werewolves are involved.**

**Also, I chose Liam Dunbar as one of the main characters along with my OC because Liam is vastly underrepresented in Teen Wolf Fanfiction. He's a pretty interesting kid and needs some love too! I know it's a popular relationship, but I hope that doesn't stop anyone from enjoying or reading! There will still be tons of the other main characters, in particular the Three Amigos Lydia, Stiles and Scott. I have plans to include others as well and we'll just have to see where the story takes me.**

**Thanks for reading, and as I said, I already have multiple chapters written so look for an update soon. Please leave feedback on what you think! I'm trying to stay mostly canon with all past events, so this will take place post-Season 4 and kind of replace/negate anything that happens in Season 5.**

**(Oh, and no beta because I'm pretty new at this!)**

**Have a lovely day Teen Wolfers! Reviews, favorites and follows are much appreciated.**


	2. Chapter 2

After Lizzie had covered up her own scent with the cheap perfume, she had rushed to first period and slipped in just before the bell rang. Aside from the awkwardness that came with being new, everything went relatively smoothly. Even when she found herself in classes with other members of the pack, she was more prepared and expecting it, so her reaction was not as severe as the first time.

Still, in between each class she reapplied the perfume. In the past she avoided using it whenever it wasn't necessary, because the fake smell messed with her head. But, on the plus side, it had the same effect on other werewolves and disguised her true scent.

When possible, especially at lunch, she avoided the cafeteria and hung out in the library. It allowed her a few stress-free moments when she didn't have to be on high alert. However, it also prevented her from getting to know anyone. Lizzie was naturally a hermit, not really talking to anyone and keeping to herself. Even at her old school though she had made a few acquaintances that she sat with at lunch and talked to between classes.

By the end of the week, she knew all of the pack member's names, at least those that went to Beacon Hills High School. Lizzie wasn't very familiar with pack politics, but there was a combination of both werewolves as well as humans in this one. Even through her perfume-clouded senses, Lizzie could tell that Scott McCall was the alpha. His best friend Stiles was the only true human that she could tell, and Stile's girlfriend Malia was part werewolf. There was also Scott's girlfriend Kira, and their mutual friend Lydia, who were not quite human, but not werewolves either.

The unknown made Lizzie nervous. She wanted to fully understand the pack. It wasn't that she wanted to join them. On the contrary, she would rather be killed than be forced into a pack again. Her past experience had ended with so much pain and heartache. She didn't think she could endure that again.

She also didn't trust them. Even the beta, Liam, who was the one in her economics class with Coach Finstock, and then later during gym. He seemed like a normal teenage boy. They all seemed like normal teenagers really, but Lizzie knew better. She herself probably looked like a normal, if somewhat shy and awkward girl from first appearances.

Someone like her shouldn't have been as fast as she was though. Someone like Liam shouldn't have been as strong as he was. Those were the thoughts that ran through her head as she cleaned off in the shower after gym class on Friday. Already she could feel some of the tension easing away from her muscles as the warm water rained down on her body.

She had made it through an entire week undetected. Admittedly, Lizzie was a little proud. A smile almost crept onto her face until she realized that with the two day break over the weekend, she wasn't entirely scot-free. It wasn't like she had forgotten the circumstances of her home life. Sometimes she just got caught up in the busy rush of school that, just for a few fleeting moments, she could pretend that there wasn't anyone waiting for her.

Lizzie no longer felt like smiling as she turned off the shower head and wrapped the thick towel around her body. In fact, her mood had shifted show quickly that she was shivering, anger and stress causing her body to shake.

"Freezing, isn't it?" a voice asked, ripping Lizzie from her thoughts. To her left stood the redhead, Lydia, one of Scott's pack members.

"Um… What?" Lizzie asked, voice cracking. She tried not to meet the other girl's gaze as she began changing back into her school clothes.

"It's cold in here, don't you think?" Lydia continued, already dressed in a pretty blue blouse and flowy white skirt, and walking over to the mirror to comb out her hair and put on her makeup.

Lizzie inhaled before saying anything, dropping her towel and beginning to pull on her underwear and tights. "Yeah," she responded, voice shaking to match her body. It was cold now that she thought about it. That's not why she was shivering though; werewolves didn't get cold easily, but she of course couldn't tell this stranger that. She faked a laugh. "It is cold in here. Is it like a conspiracy or something to get us out of here as fast as possible?"

Lydia laughed loudly and turned to look over shoulder. She looked at Lizzie with renewed interest. "That's exactly what I was thinking." Lydia smiled. "Great minds think alike… Oh! What happened to you?" The girl's face turned quickly into a frown when she spotted Lizzie's body.

Lizzie was in the middle of pulling her long-sleeve black dress over her head, which gave her a moment to think before she had to say anything. Although, she had enough practice that she could have given a believable answer anyways without the extra time. "Sports," she answered, voice distorted slightly by the fabric. Once she had her arms through the tight sleeves, she smoothed down the short skirt of the dress and continued. "It gets kind of rough out there."

Lydia nodded as though she perfectly understood. "That's why I usually stand off to the sides…" She paused there, putting a finger to her lips in thought. "Increasing your intake of Vitamin C has been shown in controlled trials to help bruises heal more quickly."

"Thanks for the tip," Lizzie said, pulling her worn combat boots on over her tights. She pulled an elastic band off of her wrist and combed her hair up into a bun before getting out her perfume bottle.

Lydia finished her makeup and walked back over right after Lizzie had doused herself in the floral scent. Already feeling nervous around the girl, Lizzie hurried to throw all of her belongings into her bag and gather her books that she had brought with her so that she didn't have to stop by her regular locker before leaving for the weekend.

She had just finished packing everything away when she realized that Lydia had gone still beside her. Lizzie felt a lump form in her throat and shut her locker, turning to leave at once.

"Wait!" Lydia shouted, causing Lizzie to freeze in place. She paused before turning around, knowing what was coming. All week she had been so careful and here it was. They had found her out. The expression on Lydia's face when she turned around was annoyed.

"Yeah?" she asked, trying to keep her voice level. Although it came out almost as a whisper, Lydia seemed to have heard her.

"What perfume are you wearing?" Lydia asked. Her nose was crinkled in disgust, which caused Lizzie's heart to race even faster. She probably could smell right through it. Smell that Lizzie was different. A werewolf. A threat.

"Um…" Lizzie stuttered, trying to figure out what she could say. But words failed her as she realized that she couldn't do anything to salvage the situation she hadn't gotten herself into. Lydia was rooting in her bag, probably for a weapon, and Lizzie went to hold up her hands to beg for mercy.

Instead though, some kind of bottle was tossed through the air. Lizzie was startled for a moment, but her werewolf reflexes kicked in before it almost hit the floor. She looked down to see a large bottle with a fancy script, written in some other language. Lizzie squinted at the words, trying to make sense of what she was seeing, and then looked up in confusion. "You don't want to be caught dead wearing something like that." Lizzie flinched at the word "dead," but Lydia had already turned back to her own locker and didn't seem to notice. "Use that instead, it's made from real flowers." Lydia's face broke out into a grin as she continued, "Yours smells terrible."

Lizzie smiled back before leaving the locker room. She paused briefly outside to try out the perfume. It wasn't quite a strong as her own, but it didn't make her want to sneeze either. She dropped the bottle into her bag and headed towards her bicycle outside of the school. She made a mental note to learn more about Lydia Martin, and in the meantime to stay as far away from the girl as possible.

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**I hope everyone is enjoying the story so far. I've been chugging away and have even more chapters now to post. It's kind of exciting to just see where the story takes me and I'm not trying to push it into any confined lines or space. It's going to be how it's going to be, although I do have a few plot points planned for future entries. **

**Lizzie is kind of a contradictory character, which I think you'll see in the way she acts and talks. Part of her very much wants to make friends and be accepted, but the other part of her (the part right now that's most prevalent) is trying to stay removed. The girl's got a lot of secrets and in Beacon Hills secrets never stay that way for long...**

**Thanks to anyone reading this! I know OC stories aren't incredibly popular, but it's appreciated all the same. Please follow, favorite, and leave feedback on what you think!**


	3. Chapter 3

Once she got to her bicycle, Lizzie pushed it around the exiting students and cars, before hopping on and heading for the main road. She looked both ways before leaning into the pedals and pushing off, gathering a rhythm and starting for her house.

The sidewalks were much more cracked and uneven than where she used to live, but being in a smaller town they were also a lot less crowded. Lizzie kept her gaze trained ahead as she pedaled faster and faster, whizzing by the houses in a blur. After a while the sidewalk disappeared and Lizzie was riding directly on the road. Within minutes she spotted her house and began to slow down.

With a glance behind her, she turned off into the driveway, riding over the small bump as she transitioned from the rough blacktop road to the smooth, cement drive. When she saw her father's car parked in the garage, her stomach lurched in her throat. He wasn't usually done with work until later in the evening. Especially since it was his first week on the job as manager at the factory, he was putting in a lot of hours. Things had been slightly more peaceful at home.

If her father was home early though, that probably meant he had had a rough day. As Lizzie gripped the brakes on her handlebars and slid to a stop, she strained to listen for any noises in the house. Although there were layers of wall and building material between them, if Lizzie focused enough she could tell what room her father was in, and what he was doing.

At first she didn't hear anything much, just the sound of a fan spinning in the kitchen. With practice she had learned to tune out background noise, and with a squint of her eyes she honed in on her father's presence. He was also in the kitchen, pacing on the tile floor, his steel toed boots thumping as he walked back and forth.

Lizzie got off her bicycle and pushed it into the garage, making sure to put it in the far back corner to keep it out of the way. Then she slowly started towards the front door. Her feet dragged and it felt like it took her forever to reach the steps leading up to their house. When she was at the door, she pulled her house key from her front pocket and inserted it into the lock. With a turn to the right, the door clicked open. The pacing in the kitchen paused. Lizzie paused.

She knew she had to go in eventually though, and the sooner the better. Lizzie steeled herself and locked her shoulders as she crossed the threshold into the house. Directly inside was the living room, furnished simply with a couch, loveseat, coffee table and television. Further on was the entrance from the living room to the kitchen. She slung the book bag off her back and placed it near the door.

"I'm back!" Lizzie called out from habit, even though her father would have already sensed her arrival. The words felt like something a normal daughter would say when arriving home from school. All pretenses of normal faded away when Lizzie entered the kitchen and saw her father filling up a cup of water at the sink. As she walked further into the room she saw an open black case packed with a rifle and bullets. When her father turned around, she motioned to the gun and trying to keep her voice light asked, "What's that for?"

He ignores her as tilts his head back and gulps down the water. Lizzie notices his tense muscles and fisted hand at his side. When he's finished with the glass, he slams it down on the counter, causing it to crack on side. Lizzie stares at the crack, willing herself not to look anywhere else.

Finally her father speaks, breaking the silence. "Why didn't you tell me?"

Lizzie glances up quickly, meeting his eyes. Her brows knit in confusion. "Tell you what?"

"How has school been going?" is all he said in response, jaw working in anger. "Meet anyone interesting…" He trails off his last question as he inhales loudly through his nose. Lizzie freezes as he grimaces at her. "What are you wearing?"

"I… uh…." she mumbled as he took a step towards her, crossing his arms. He had the same dark hair as Lizzie, except his was peppered with grey from age. His eyes were usually green like hers too. Lizzie gulped in panic and took a step backwards. "There's um… there's others at my school."

Her father took another step forward just as she took a second one back. Her shoulders hit the wall behind her and she almost collapsed against it. "Other what?" he prodded, although, like always, he already knew the answer.

"Werewolves," she whispered, closing her eyes.

"And you just thought that you could join up with a new pack and I wouldn't notice?"

The bitterness in his voice causes Lizzie to open her eyes in shock. "What?" she exclaimed. Then she realized what her father was alluding to and she pushed herself off the wall, trying to explain. "No… no! I'm not trying to join up with a new pack!" When she saw that he still look unconvinced. "That's why I'm wearing all of this perfume. To hide my scent from them."

The tension in her father's face faded slightly and he squinted at her. "Say it."

She knew what he meant and at that point, she would say almost anything to calm him down. There was just a flicker of hesitation in her stomach though. She didn't know why it was there. She really didn't want to be part of a pack again.

"Say it!" her father screamed, pushing her against the wall and slamming a head beside her head.

Lizzie closed her eyes again, pushing away the hesitation, and trying unsuccessfully to push down the rising nauseated feeling forming in the pit of her stomach. It rose up like a wave as her head swirled with past threats, past outbursts…. All of the memories consumed her. This is what she sometimes pretended to not exist while she was at school. Him. Her father.

He grabbed both of her arms tightly, causing her to yelp in pain. She could feel his hands shifting, the claws digging into her flesh. Before she opened her eyes again, Lizzie knew they would still be that violent shade of red. She tried to ignore the pain as best she could as she pried her eyes open, tears spilling down her cheeks. Her father's eyes bore into her own as he waited. "I'm not trying to join the werewolf pack."

After she said it, her father leaned in and placed his nose behind her ear. He took a deep breath in, trying to determine is she was lying.

Apparently satisfied for the time being, he loosened his grip on her arms and stepped away. Lizzie immediately wiped away the fallen tears and took a stabling breath. She remained where she stood as her father quietly walked over to the table. With a frightening calm, he slid the gun from the black box and loaded in a round of bullets. "If anything changes," he said, running his hand down the side of the gun before cocking the rifle with a loud click, "you let me know." With alarming precision her father swung the rifle up and aimed it at Lizzie. His eyes had returned back to normal and stared at Lizzie through the trained focus on the gun.

While they weren't red anymore, they still held the same malice as they always did. The smirk that played across her father's lips next never quite reached his eyes. He hadn't smiled in a very long time. And the chuckle that came after as he aimed the gun away from his daughter and made his way upstairs was not out of happiness or joy. It was Lizzie's father's way of reminding her that he was in control. He was her alpha and if she stepped out of line, she would regret it forever.

* * *

**It's now the end of Lizzie's first week at Beacon Hills. She made it out unscaved, but then she headed back to her house for the weekend. Until now, we'd only seen her at school. There was a reason for that. I wanted you to get to know Lizzie and her workings before showing you her "home life." Not that what you just read could ever be considered a home for the girl though...**

**I hope this chapter gave some insight into why Lizzie acts the way she does, and helps explain some of her motivation for wanting to stay away from the Beacon Hills pack. The story won't get much more violent than this, but abuse is somewhat a theme of the story. Although you won't read about it in every chapter, the effects will without a doubt affect every aspect of Lizzie's life.**

**Lizzie's father is probably going to be the only other OC in this story. Next chapter there is some more interaction with Lydia (yay!), and soon after that the other pack members will enter into the story as well. So far I have written dialogue for Liam, Stiles and Scott. More characters will soon follow... I'm excited for you all to read it!**

**As always, I welcome comments and thoughts about my writing. Thanks to MTOBEIYF for the lovely comment you left on Chapter 2! Please follow, favorite and leave feedback!**


	4. Chapter 4

As Lizzie rode her bicycle to school early Monday morning, she thought about why she hadn't told her father right away about there being another werewolf pack in town. Part of her reasoned that it was because she hadn't seen her father much that week with his new job and everything. She chose to ignore the fact that she had taken a shower every afternoon when she got home to wash off the smell of cheap perfume. She also didn't think going to sleep early every night before her father came home from work was any indicator either.

The main reason, she decided as she finally caught sight of the school in the distance, was because she didn't want to be forced to move again. Despite the stress she felt throughout the day by having to hide from the pack members, she really did like Beacon Hills High School. She had never really fit in at her old school in the city – everyone seemed uptight and superficial. At Beacon Hills though, she just got an altogether different vibe. Lizzie didn't know how to describe it, but despite everything else going on, she felt more relaxed there.

When she slowed to a stop by the bicycle rack outside the front doors, she couldn't help but grimace as she carefully swung her leg up and over the bicycle seat. Her bruises had just started to fade last week and then this weekend happened. Lizzie tugged uncomfortably on her long sleeved navy blouse, making sure that it covered her wrists and arms properly.

She had tried to forget the weekend as she rode to school, but walking on solid ground again, exposed for all to see, she started to feel just how tired and exhausted she really was. Lizzie knew that if she had just simply told her father sooner about the werewolves, she could have prevented it from happening. Or at the very least, he wouldn't have been quite so rough. It was her fault. That's what her father had told her the next day, and she knew it was true. Even as she tried to keep a neutral face and not let anyone see the pain that walking caused her, she didn't blame her father.

Lizzie had made a mistake. She was always making mistakes. It was his job as alpha to keep her in line, and more often than not, punish her for her wrongdoings. Absentmindedly she let her mind wander as she made her way to her locker. Other students walked past, gossiping and laughing over what they did during their weekend. If Lizzie was human, she could have maybe had a similar life. Something ached in her chest at the thought, and it wasn't from the cuts and bruises that marred her body. Those would heal eventually. The longing she felt in her heart though, for something different, something more… that would never go away.

When she reached her locker, Lizzie carefully lifted her book bag up on the shelf, trying not to disturb her wounds as much as possible.

"Hey, are you alright?" someone asked behind her. Lizzie jumped at the voice and spun around so fast that she bumped into the locker beside hers. She let out a groan and rubbed delicately at her arm. She was surprised to see Lydia Martin standing there, books in one arm and a purse slung over the other. The girl looked at Lizzie in much the same way as she had on Friday – concerned and a little curious.

Lizzie put on a fake smile and nodded her head. She turned back around and reached overhead for one of her folders, failing again to suppress a hiss of pain. After gathering her things and closing her locker, she was surprised to see Lydia still standing there. The other girl raised an eyebrow, apparently choosing not to believe that Lizzie was alright. Once again, she was reaching into her bag, but this time Lizzie wasn't frightened of what she might pull out.

She heard a rattling, and then Lydia's arm was outstretched, holding a white pill bottle out to Lizzie. Vitamin C. Lizzie snorted and popped open the bottle, smelling it first out of habit, and then shaking out two orange tablets into her hand. She dropped them in her mouth in one go, and chewed them quickly.

Lizzie was shocked at the kind gesture, before remembering the promise she had made herself to stay away from the red haired girl. "I should get going," she muttered, jabbing a hand in the direction of her economics class. Then she realized that she was still holding the bottle of Vitamin C and she held them out for Lydia to take back.

Lydia quickly shook her head and pushed the bottle back to Lizzie. When her fingertips met Lizzie's hand, her eyes widened and she mumbled something under her breath that Lizzie couldn't make out. She snapped her attention back to Lizzie as if nothing had happened though, and said, "No, you should keep them. You're going to need them." Lizzie pulled at the sleeves of her blouse again and forced another smile. And as if she couldn't be shocked any further that morning, Lydia studied her silently for a moment, as if trying to figure something out, and then saying, "Sit with me at lunch today."

Lizzie's mouth opened in surprise before she was shaking her head and backing away towards her class. "I'm fine. Thanks though…" She shook the Vitamin C bottle up in the air, "and thanks for these. Really though, I'm fine." At that she turned fully around and sped off to class. She didn't dare look back to where Lydia was standing, but she did refocus her hearing, and what she heard caused a wave of confusion to wash over her.

"No you're not," Lydia muttered under breath. "But you will be."

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**So this chapter is slightly shorter than the previous chapters. It's not for lack of posting material, that just happened to be where the chapter naturally ended. As promised, there was some more Lydia dialogue. I will be posting another short chapter tomorrow, where there is finally some Liam interaction! I'm not going to spoil more than that, but I will say that Chapter 4 and 5 are building up to quite the... event. **

**How excited are you all for the next season of Teen Wolf? I've been rewatching past episodes on Amazon and watching fanmade videos on Youtube to tide me over until then. Of course, I've also been reading a ton of Fanfiction while I wait for Part 1 of Season 5 (how awesome is it that Season 5 has TWO parts?) I've read dozens in the past few weeks, and if anyone has any suggestions for some really well-written fanfiction, I'm all ears!**

**Thanks to everyone reading my story! I especially want to thank Halfcent for their most recent comments - I too tend to stay away from OC fiction. I've even been known to filter OC characters out completely when searching for a story to read. And you will soon be able to read about Lizzie's discovery (not really a spoiler, right? It was bound to happen eventually).**

**Please follow, favorite and leave feedback about what you think!**


	5. Chapter 5

Needless to say, Lizzie did not change her usual lunch plans and went to the library as she had the previous week. A small part of her was worried that Lydia would somehow find her in there, but she didn't. That was a relief mostly, and yet, another part of her couldn't help feeling a little disappointed. She pushed that part away; however, and focused on the relief instead. She realized that she was constantly pushing. Pushing down her feelings. Pushing away those trying to get away. That's what she had been trained to do though, and she was good at it.

Monday afternoon she found herself yet again in the locker room shower. It seemed like such a waste to take a shower after gym and reapply her perfume, only to go back to her house and take a shower again to get rid of the perfume smell before her father got walked in the door. But she knew after sweating so much while exercising she was at her most vulnerable for the werewolves to pick up on her scent. Just to be on the safe side, Lizzie always made sure to put on a lot perfume before class and refresh during all of their water breaks.

That day Lizzie rushed through her shower, trying to get done so that she could avoid a repeat of the other day with Lydia. After shutting the shower head off, Lizzie wrapped herself in her towel and peeked out into an empty locker room. Most girls didn't bother showering, just waiting until they got home to do so. And all of the girls in sports wouldn't start pouring in for another fifteen or so minutes. Lizzie silently thanked God for the perfect timing as she eased out of the shower, dashing over to her locker and pulling out her pile of clothes.

She was in the middle of slipping into her blouse when she heard a familiar voice again. "I missed you at lunch today." Lydia, already dressed in her regular clothes, slipped from behind a row of lockers and sauntered over to Lizzie. Lizzie chose to ignore the redhead, knowing that she could easily overtake her if she tried anything.

Instead she buttoned up her blouse and grabbed her bag from her locker. She went to pull out her perfume, but Lydia reached a hand out and laid it on Lizzie's shoulder. Lizzie leapt back at the sudden contact, swiping the hand away. "I'm… I'm sorry," Lydia said, and the frown on her face told Lizzie that she was being genuine.

Lizzie cleared her throat and grabbed her books from the top shelf of her locker. She would put them in her bag when she got out of there. "Look," she started, backing up towards the door, "I've gotta go."

"Wait! Lizzie!" Lydia called out. Lizzie didn't pause, but she was startled to realize that Lydia knew her name.

She didn't know what else Lydia Martin knew, but whatever it was would only spell trouble. Her mind was swirling as she walked as fast as possible towards the front of the school building. She kept her head ducked and ignored the rising heat she felt on the back of her neck. It was a simple fight or flight response and right then Lizzie was trying to choose flight. Although her body wasn't making it difficult to do otherwise.

Lizzie was so wrapped up in her thoughts, focused solely on getting out of the school and to her bicycle, that she didn't watch where she was going. Suddenly, her body was colliding with someone else and she tripped forward onto the floor. Arms reached out to try and catch her but it was too late. Her books went skidding in all directions, papers spilling out from their pages.

"Shoot," the other person muttered under their breath, leaning down to help Lizzie who was quickly gathering up her things. She was on her knees, keeping her head bent as she reached for another one of her books. The other person handed her a stack of papers he had collected and that was when Lizzie noticed.

She involuntarily sniffed the air. Cinnamon and pine cones.

Lizzie realized that she had frozen in place, hand in mid-air, reaching for the papers. She heard herself inhale loudly through her nose, the sound so loud in what seemed like an impossible silence.

The other person's hand had remained still as well, and she couldn't help but look up. Through wet tangles of hair scattered in her face, her eyes met a pair of cool, blue eyes. They looked back at her in surprise and Lizzie could see some sort of realization dawning on their owner's face as he too sniffed the air.

Within a split second, Lizzie acted purely out of instinct and dropped her books and papers to the ground. She was up off the floor and darting away before her brain even processed what she was doing. "Get those, will you? I'll be back in a second!" the blue-eyed boy shouted.

Liam. It was Liam from economics. And he was following Lizzie as she sprinted through the halls of school.

* * *

**So yeah... This chapter is even shorter than the last one. But worry not! The next chapter is over 2000 words - I'll probably post it tomorrow after I recheck it for any glaring grammar issues. Usually I'm much more of a stickler for that sort of thing, but I realized that was part of my problem in the past. I was too focused on the technical issues and it held me up from getting the words out. **

**Not much else to say about this chapter. I think it's pretty simple what's happening right now. Maybe not entirely clear on the reason behind Lizzie's reactions to everything, but all will be revealed in due time.**

**On AO3 _Read4Providence_ thanked me for writing about other characters in the Teen Wolf fandom, which was much appreciated! Most don't like OC fics (myself included), but I've begun branching out and have started to read a few Teen Wolf stories with original main characters. I'm impressed! Also, I've been reading a lot of pack-centric stories and they are just so cute that I feel like writing my own (or incorporating a scene into this fic).**

**Please follow, favorite and leave feedback. Give me your opinion on my story, the upcoming season of Teen Wolf... whatever you'd like!**

**As always, let me know what you think!**


	6. Chapter 6

She had no idea where she was going, but Lizzie didn't slow down. Behind her, she could feel Liam catching up, hear his racing pulse and feet screeching against the linoleum floor. Lizzie had to think quickly if she was going to get away from him. Being caught was not even a possibility. She would be dead for sure, if not by the pack, but by her father.

A plan formed in her mind and she acted quickly, diving around a corner and dashing into the girl's restroom that she had escaped to that first day. She didn't even pause to think before she ran towards the line of windows and opened the latch on one. Within seconds she had pushed out the screen and was through the window.

Once outside, Lizzie instantly felt calmer. She didn't run quite as fast when she headed away from the school and towards the woods lining the property. If she could just get back to her house and regroup, she could figure out what to tell her father and what to do next. First, she just had to get out of there.

It wasn't far to the tree line. After a brief glance around to make sure that no one was watching, Lizzie stepped into the trees and started in the direction of her house. On a good day she would have been able to run and make it in under twenty minutes. After the full-out sprint though, her body was worn out, already off balance from her wounds.

Lizzie was almost near where the main road cut off the trees when she started to get dizzy. She had pushed herself too much, she knew. It was easy for her to forget about the pain and other warning signs because of years of practice. Still, it always caught up with her eventually. Usually though, she was sitting down in class or doing homework at her house, not traipsing through the woods after being chased by a werewolf.

With a huff, Lizzie plopped down on a pile of leaves and leaned up against the closest tree. Carefully she peeled off her blouse which had begun to stick to her skin from sweat. Her arms were beet red and the bruises on her arms looked to be getting worse. Healing from an alpha's attacks took time, but more importantly rest. Lizzie laughed out loud. She certainly hadn't been getting any rest that day.

"I was wondering if you were ever going to stop."

Lizzie jerked her head to the right and gasped. There standing, looking completely unexhausted and somewhat angry, was Liam.

Despite the fact that Lizzie was more than exhausted and bordering on passing out, she eased up off the ground and started to back away. It took so much effort just to take those few steps that Lizzie had to hold out a hand to steady herself on the tree. "Go away," she muttered, although she knew it was futile.

Liam crossed his arms, but didn't say anything right away. He was still dressed in his gym clothes, but unlike Lizzie he wore shorts and a ripped t-shirt. It was much more appropriate for the hot weather. Lizzie on the other hand always wore a long sleeve athletic shirt and exercise pants during gym for obvious reasons. It got her some odd looks, especially when the temperature was 80+ degrees; she just shrugged it away explaining that she was always cold.

Testing the waters, Lizzie took another step back, and that's when Liam decided to speak up. He shook his head, walking closer to her. From far away Liam had just looked kind of angry and defensive. Up close though, she could tell he was furious. "No, I'm not letting you go anywhere until you tell me what you are and what you're doing here."

"I'm a student at Beacon Hills," Lizzie stated, "I just started last week." At this Liam rolled his eyes and stepped closer. "And I'm here…" she continued, breathing heavily, "Because some crazy lunatic was chasing me down the hallways at school." By the end she was yelling, jabbing at Liam's chest to make her point. The words broke the calm silence of the woods and a flock of birds resting in the tree tops scattered at the sound of her voice.

Liam reached for the outstretched finger and before Lizzie could pull it back he had gotten ahold of her wrist. He wasn't holding it too tightly, but it still caused her to grimace at the added pressure on her bruises. Her classmate looked down in surprise, loosening his grip although not letting go completely. He looked up curiously and peered into her eyes. "What are you really?"

Lizzie chuckled, and it was with a bitter realization that she recognized how much her fake laugh sounded like her father's. "Don't you already know? Isn't that why you want to kill me?"

Once again, Liam looked surprised, eyes widening. "Kill you? I don't want to kill you." Although he sounded sincere, Lizzie wasn't sure she had enough energy to tell if he was lying. Yet, she tried, sniffing the air. She sensed only truth. Liam dropped her wrist and turned around, running a hand through his hair. Lizzie knew better than to try to escape again. She was only still upright from leaning on the tree.

When Liam turned back around, his face was a cross between confusion and disbelief. "But how can you be a werewolf?" His eyes darted down to her exposed arms. They lingered on the bruises on her wrists.

Lizzie was beginning to grow uncomfortable from the observations. First Lydia and now this werewolf boy. She wasn't used to people noticing and she didn't like it. Slowly she reached down to the ground and picked up her blouse. It was a struggle, but she managed to ease it back on over her camisole without looking too much like a wounded puppy.

As soon as the bruises and cuts were out of sight, that seemed to break Liam out of his thoughts. "I thought werewolves couldn't get hurt." Lizzie was about to object when he held out a hand and continued. "I mean, yes, we can get injured, but they usually fade pretty fast. Especially bruises and cuts," he said, motioning to her.

Then it was Lizzie's turn to be confused. She frowned, wondering exactly how long the boy had been a werewolf. Surely he had noticed that a punch from his alpha lasted longer than normal. Liam didn't look like a new wolf though. He was young, sure, but he didn't have that same temperamental aura that came with being newly changed. Lizzie wanted to explain it to him; however, something stopped her. He wasn't part of her pack and she had no loyalties with him. Instead, all she said was, "Of course you can. What have they been teaching you?"

Liam bit his lip and Lizzie expected to see the familiar look of distrust on his face that Lizzie got whenever she thought of her own alpha, of her father. Instead, he relaxed and seemed almost embarrassed as he admitted, "Yeah… I, uh… I probably don't pay as close attention as I should during lessons."

This caused Lizzie to laugh, shocking her more than anything that day. She abruptly stopped and mumbled, "I may know a thing or two about that."

"Look," Liam sighed, gesturing with his hands, "I have to take you to my alpha. That's just the way this works. I don't want to, but I have to." That was at least one thing he and Lizzie could agree on.

Lizzie considered putting up a fight, then a thought struck her, making her stomach churn. The boy's statement caused her to flash to her own memories of when she didn't obey her alpha. "Why? Why did you phrase it like that?" Liam frowned at her question, not understanding. She tried again. "What will he do to you if you don't bring me in?"

At this the young werewolf's mouth opened in understanding. "Oh no, nothing like that," he rambled. "I mean, Scott would never purposely try to hurt me." Lizzie must have looked as if she didn't believe him, because he continued on. "Really. You just don't seem like a homicidal werewolf killer or anything. And you don't seem like you want to come with me. I still have to bring you, but I uh… I don't really like making people do stuff against their will, you know?"

With a click of her tongue Lizzie honed in on Liam's choice of words. "Am I supposed to take the fact that you don't think I'm a homicidal serial killer as a compliment?" Although she joked, she still wasn't convinced about what he had said about his alpha.

"Homicidal werewolf killer," Liam corrected. "And no," he said, looking up and down at her exhausted body, barely able to stand on its own, "you don't look like much of a threat right now."

As if on cue, Lizzie's legs suddenly gave out from under her and she collapsed onto the ground. When she sensed the boy rushing over to help, she shot out her hand to stop him. "Please stay back," she shouted. It was embarrassing enough as a werewolf to be told that she didn't look threatening, then to prove it by literally falling over in a worthless lump.

Liam didn't listen though, and knelt in front of her, gently placing a hand on her shoulder. At the sudden touch she jerked back, making a low growl. When she realized what she'd just done, she used all of her remaining strength to crawl back over to the tree and lean against it again. She looked over to Liam who seemed to want to say something, but whatever it was, he held it back. Instead, he slowly walked over to where she was sitting and motioned to the ground in front of her a few feet away to ask if it was alright to join her. Lizzie eyed the space wearily before nodding.

"Um, we should probably get back to the school," Liam suggested. It reminded Lizzie that all of her things were still there, and she internally tensed over how she was going to explain away her abandoned books and papers in the middle of the hallway.

"Right," she agreed, trying and failing to push herself up the tree into a more upright position. Groaning at the hopeless of it all, she sunk back down and let out a shaky breath. "I feel like I got ran over by a freight train."

Seeming to realize that Lizzie wouldn't be able to get up, let alone walk back to school, Liam pulled his cellphone out of his pocket. He scrolled through his contacts until he found the name he was looking for. As it was dialing, Liam smirked at Lizzie. "You know, after hearing you growl, I take back what I said before about you not being much of a threat. Remind me not to mess with you when you're back to normal."

Before she could respond, the person on the other end of the phone answered and Lizzie could hear their voice loud and clear. Whether it was from her sensitive werewolf hearing or the fact that the person was unnaturally loud, she wasn't quite sure. "Hello?"

"Hey Stiles, I…" Liam started, but was abruptly cut off by a long string of incomprehensible words. "Well, what did you tell him?" Another bunch of rambling followed by the phone being passed to someone else.

"Liam? What's going on? Practice is almost half over!" the voice yelled through the phone, sounding deeply concerned.

Despite looking a little guilty about missing practice, Liam quickly brushed off the question and got straight to the point. "I'm fine. But I need you guys to get over here right now."

There was some objection with more questions before the person on the other end succumbed. "Fine, where are you?"

"Uh…" At this, Liam looked over at Lizzie again and she just shook her head as if to say 'you're on your own with that one.' "I'm in the woods by the school, almost near where it meets the main road."

There was a prolonged pause on the other end before the person sighed. "We'll be there soon." And then they hung up.

* * *

**So now Lizzie has officially met Liam! (And sort of Stiles and Scott in a way). Liam is kind of hard to write for sometimes because I don't feel like he is always a consistent character in the show. I hope we get to see him developed a little more this next season as there are so many opportunities and the actor who plays him seems great. ****Nevertheless, I'm trying to portray him as accurately as possible given the storyline. **

**As promised, this chapter was much longer!, albeit I posted it later than planned. My Income Tax exam and Economics homework took precedence unfortunately.**

**Briefly I just want to thank everyone who has been reading my story. I really appreciate it, especially when you leave feedback! Thanks to Female whovian and AnimeHunter411 for their recent comments! They make me smile.**

**I hope you enjoyed the new chapter and please follow, favorite and leave some feedback for me letting me know what you think.**


	7. Chapter 7

While waiting, Lizzie let her eyes close and allowed herself to drift off. She had resigned to the idea that whatever was going to happen would happen. There was nothing she could do about it. If they wanted to kill her, they could. If they wanted to force her and her father to leave their territory, they could probably do that too. Worrying about it then was pointless, and a waste of energy that Lizzie didn't have an abundance of at that particular moment.

It only felt like seconds before she was being awakened. "Hey!" a voice called out. Lizzie felt something sharp poke her outstretched leg and she coiled in on herself, eyes springing open.

The stick that had done the poking was immediately knocked out of the hand of gangly guy that Lizzie recognized as Stiles, the only full human of the werewolf pack. "What are you doing? We wanted to wake her up, not startle her to death." Lizzie blinked slowly, trying to clear her blurry vision. When she realized that the person who was speaking next was Scott McCall, she curled into herself even tighter. She could feel the waves of power rolling off the alpha.

"Dude, I wasn't about to touch her. How are we supposed to know if she's had all of her shots?" Stiles argued. He glanced away from Scott for a moment to look at Lizzie. "No offense." He shifted his attention back to Scott. "Besides, I think if we have to worry about anyone scaring her to death, it's him." At this, Stiles jabbed a thumb towards Liam.

Liam looked rightly offended. Up until that point he had stayed silent. He looked between Scott and Stiles as if he couldn't believe that he'd called them first. "Could we please stop using the word death? No one's being killed." He smiled over at Lizzie in a reassuring manner.

Scott's eyebrows knotted together in confusion. "Killing? Who said anything about killing?" He suddenly leaned in towards Lizzie, "You haven't killed anyone have you?" Lizzie shook her head vehemently. Convinced, Scott looked relieved and the tension abated slightly. "So," he asked, turning to Liam, "explain to me what happened."

Not wanting to hear Liam rehash the details of her horrible escape and crazy madwoman dash through the school, Lizzie interrupted. "Just cut to the chase. What are you going to do to me?"

For a moment, the alpha just considered her in silence. "Are there any others with you?"

Really, Lizzie should have been expecting the question, but still, she was thrown. She decided the best course of action would be to not saying anything. When they realized that she wasn't going to speak, the three pack members looked to each other in a 'what now?' sort of way. Lizzie was surprised when Stiles and not Scott spoke up first. "We should take her to Derek's." Lizzie didn't recognize the name and was instantly on alert, wondering if she had somehow missed Derek at school.

"No. Derek's not going to be back for a few days," Scott sighed, shaking his head. "And we are NOT breaking into his place again without him being there," he barked, as if that was going to be Stile's next suggestion.

Everyone went silent again, further mulling over their options. As if they had ESP, Scott and Stiles looked at each other nodding before both saying, "Deaton."

* * *

**I apologize for the short chapter; however, I am going to be posting the next one either tonight or tomorrow morning to make it up to you. I don't plan in advance how long they are going to be, I just break them off where it feels natural to do so. **

**Since I'm writing this story in advance, I'm now getting to the revelation part where we find out what exactly happened with Lizzie and her father. It's kind of slow going because I'm trying to figure out how best to approach it. I know roughly what I want to say, but flashbacks and "story time" can particularly awful to read in fanfiction and I don't want to subject anyone to that. So I will keep it succinct and to the point. **

**Now, not trying to be spoilery or anything, but I do have a question - What are all of the known ways to kill a werewolf? Or, I suppose, the acceptable ways within the confines of the Teen Wolf tv show canon? I think I've got my chosen method (don't worry! No major characters are going to die right now or anything). The answer isn't really easy to find though, so I thought I could ask the experts - you! Off the top of my head: fire, lunar eclipse, and wolfsbane. **

**Thank you for reading, and I hope you are enjoying the story so far. It's great to be able to read fanfiction stories to hold us over in between the seasons! Let me know what you think, and follow/favorite/leave feedback as you feel inclined.**


	8. Chapter 8

Unfortunately, Lizzie wasn't going to get to meet the mysterious Deaton that night. Instead, soon after their decision, Scott had gotten a phone call from his mother about her staying late at work and they had decided to take Lizzie to the McCall house instead. Once that was decided, Stiles and Scott hunched over their phones, texting various people about their plans.

Lizzie looked to Liam who was watching the two boys with disinterest. "Don't you have anyone you need to text?" she asked sarcastically.

"Nope," Liam replied with a shrug. When Stiles and Scott had finished texting, Liam walked over to Lizzie and held out a hand.

Stiles froze, probably recalling how the girl had reacted earlier to being touched. But he needn't have worried, as Lizzie instantly grabbed on to Liam's hand and allowed him to pull her upright. She did her best to not let the pain show on her face, while simultaneously ignoring the incredulous looks that Stiles and Scott were shooting Liam, as if he had just touched a rabid animal.

"Thanks," Lizzie said, letting go of Liam's hand, but before she had taken a step forward, Liam had taken her arm and wrapped it around his shoulder. While she stiffened at the close contact, she didn't exactly pull away.

"We'll be right there," Liam told Stiles and Scott, motioning them on ahead. The two looked to each other, eyebrows raised but not saying a word, before turning around and heading towards the main road where presumably their car was parked. Neither Liam nor Lizzie spoke as he helped her walk. Lizzie wasn't sure why Liam was remaining silent, but she wasn't saying a word because then she'd be forced to admit just how much she was having to rely on the boy to even walk a step. Her father would have been so ashamed to witness it. If he had been there, he would have made her crawl all of the way on her own. Getting help was showing weakness.

When Scott and Stiles were out of sight, Liam stopped walking. Without a word he scooped Lizzie effortlessly up into his arms and acted as if nothing had changed. When they were nearing the point when Stiles and Scott could see them again, he gently placed her back on the ground and they resumed walking as they had before, Lizzie's arm wrapped around Liam's shoulder for support.

When Lizzie got into the Jeep, she didn't even have enough energy to be surprised to find Lydia already sitting in the back. Liam sat down in the middle and awkwardly tried to help Lizzie inside. "Lydia, this is…" he started, attempting to introduce the two girls, stopping short when he realized that he didn't know the new werewolf's name.

"Lizzie," Lydia supplied for him, to the shock of the three boys in the Jeep. From between her legs on the ground she brought out Lizzie's backpack and pulled out a familiar-looking bottle. She shook out a handful of Vitamin C and handed them to Lizzie who didn't even bother to argue that after a certain amount, they weren't helpful anymore. "Chew," Lydia ordered the girl, before pointing forward and yelling "Drive!" to Stiles who obeyed promptly after shooting a curious glance at the bottle of vitamins.

They weren't on the road for long before Stiles broke the unspoken rule of silence that they had all seemed to agree upon. "Can I address the elephant in the room here?" Not waiting for a response, he plowed on, "We just met this girl out in the middle of the woods, who happens to be a werewolf, and now she's sitting in the back of my Jeep where she could easily kill us all." He stayed silent for just a moment for bursting out, "She's a complete stranger!"

Simultaneously, Lizzie mumbled "I'm not a homicidal werewolf killer" just as Liam said "She's not a homicidal werewolf killer." They both looked over at each other, trying not to smile. Liam offered up, "Besides, she's not a stranger, she goes to our school."

"Wait? What?" Scott yelled, turning around. The car jerked as Stiles slammed on the brakes. He shot Scott a 'no yelling in the car' look before turning around as well. "Sorry," Scott said, somewhat sheepishly. "But seriously, you haven't been going to our school. I would have smelled you."

"Wow Scott, way to make a girl feel self-conscious in a society already riddled with self esteem issues," Stiles said, to which Scott reminded his friend that he had just called her an elephant. Lydia rolled her eyes, barely containing a grin.

Then, to answer Scott's question, Lydia reached back into Lizzie's bag (personal privacy must not be a concept those people understood) and yanked out Lizzie's perfume. It was the cheap spray, almost halfway gone from how much had been used the previous week.

"That's why I didn't notice earlier," Liam murmured to himself. He must have been trying to figure out how he had missed a strange werewolf in his classes for an entire week. Lydia did a quick spray into the air and all of the werewolves in the car, including Lizzie, cringed away from the horrible artificial smell. "You wore that to hide from us?" Liam asked in disbelief, nose crinkling in disgust. Lizzie hesitated and then nodded her head. "Why?" he asked, turning to fully look Lizzie in the face for the first time since the woods.

She was saved from answering though, when Scott punched Stiles in the arm. "Dude! You stopped right in the middle of the road." Stiles peered into his rearview mirror and mumbled a curse under his breath. "There's a car coming!" Scott yelled. "Go! Go! Go!" Although not werewolf fast, Stiles hurriedly pressed his foot down on the gas and got them up to the required speed limit.

"Soooo…" Stiles drawled, seeming to tolerate anything more than 30 seconds without someone talking. "How are you liking Beacon Hills so far?" That caused Scott to smack his best friend upside the head. Lizzie almost laughed along with the rest of them, but stopped when she realized what she had momentarily forgotten. These people were not her friends. They were the enemy. Right then they may have seemed like nice high school kids riding home from school together, but she knew better than to trust appearances.

She had been too out of it in the woods; however, sitting down and resting had made her feel much more clear-headed. It had been a lapse of judgment, a momentary weakness, getting in the car with them. She needed to get away.

In between the head rest and seat in front of her, Scott's neck was exposed. With a simple swipe of her claws she could disable him and try to escape. Or perhaps it would be better to injure Stiles. While somewhat annoying, the other members of the pack appeared to have a strong liking for the boy. It would be more dangerous to attack the driver, but it would also be the most surprising and effective of a distraction.

"We're almost there," Lydia stated, breaking into Lizzie thoughts. She didn't move her body, but Lizzie glanced over at Lydia. The redhead was staring right back, almost as if she knew what the werewolf had been thinking. Lydia raised her eyebrows and shook her head. "Don't," she mouthed, and for some reason, Lizzie listened.

* * *

**Here's a longer chapter to make up for the previous short one! Sorry for dangling Deaton in front of you only to pull him away... Lizzie will meet him eventually.**

**I am just now beginning to appreciate the balance of humor and drama of Teen Wolf. The sarcastic lines are probably my favorite part of the series, but they would not have nearly as much punch if the show was a straight up comedy. Instead, while inserted randomly into the middle of conversations or during long pauses, the effect is exponentially more hilarious than would have been otherwise. I've been trying to insert a little bit of humor in here as well, although I realize I am not nearly as good as the show.**

**The next chapter is also going to be short (possibly even shorter than #7?) but I will try to do a daily double again to make up for it. **

**Side note: If Lizzie seems a bit back and forth with her emotions and actions, that's completely intended. She's just been thrown into this impossible situation and she's confused. I don't think it would be realistic for her head to be on completely straight, and I know if I were her I would have broken down crying/had a panic attack ten times by this point.**

**Thank you to _AnimeHunter411_ and _GoingClassic_ for their quick responses on ways to kill a werewolf! That's interesting about wounds that are too excessive to heal... and actually the decapitation suggestion is perfect (I initially thought about that, but pushed it away as being a way to kill vampires not werewolves). So thanks a bunch. If anyone else has suggestions, feel free to let me know.**

**As always, I appreciate any comments that you want to leave, letting me know what you think of my story so far. Please leave feedback/follow/favorite!**


	9. Chapter 9

Lizzie brushed off Liam's initial attempts to help her get into Scott's house. She walked at a snail's pace though, trying not growl at Liam who was watching her closely as if she was going to keel over at any moment. "Stop being so stubborn," Liam groaned, growing impatient. He reached out for her again and latched onto her arm. Lizzie tried to pull away but he held on and much like with the woods guided her up the steps and into the house.

After Liam had let go, Lizzie rubbed absently at her aching arms and scanned the room that they were in. The scent of the pack was heavy in the air. Although not really unpleasant, it overwhelmed her, conflicting with her own scent. It made her claustrophobic as everywhere she turned she could sense the strange pack. Enemies.

"Whoa! Calm down!" Stiles shouted, defensively holding out his hands. Until then Lizzie hadn't realized that she was shifting again. It was just her natural instinct, almost like breathing. When in a normal situation she could control it, but anytime she felt in danger it flared up without her permission. She breathed in deeply through her mouth instead of through her nose, trying to keep the foreign pack smell out, and planted her hand on the nearest wall. It was nice and cool. Focusing again on her happy memory, she felt the claws retract back into her hands, and from Stile's expression she could tell without looking in a mirror that her eyes had returned to their usual color.

Just then Lydia walked into the room, holding a makeup compact in one hand. She took one look around at Lizzie just calming down from a wolf out moment and then at Stiles and Scott. Narrowing her eyes, she snapped the compact shut and pointed towards the door, shouting, "Out!" Stiles and Scott started to protest that they hadn't done anything wrong, but eventually succumbed, leaving with agitated glares at Lizzie as they walked by. Liam started to follow behind when Lydia grabbed onto his shirt. "Oh no, I didn't mean you."

No one argued with Lydia Martin so Liam resigned without a fight. "Is that better?" the other girl asked. Lizzie didn't understand at first and then she realized that when Scott and Stiles had left, most of the pack scent went with them. She finally felt like she could breathe and nodded with a relieved smile.

"Good," Lydia said, clearly pleased with her assessment of the situation. "Now, let's just see about getting you cleaned up and then we can sort this all out."

Lizzie's smile quickly dropped. "Right. Um, do you think we could do this another time?" she asked, taking a jerky step sideways towards the front door. She hadn't moved an inch from when she came in, always keeping the door close as an escape route. "You see, I really need to be getting back to my house. I have some things I need to do… Homework and all that." Lizzie knew she was rambling, but the idea of staying there any longer just led to horrible thoughts. Her mind spun in a different directions and each one ended with her father getting angrier and angrier.

"Sorry," Lydia apologized, not looking sorry in the slightest. "Bring her upstairs, will you Liam?" Lizzie hadn't understood before why Lydia had asked Liam to stay, but as he walked towards her and she tried to scramble away, she understood perfectly. Lydia Martin may have been the brains of the group; however, Liam was there as the muscle.

* * *

**So now they are at the McCall house! I feel as though almost every story takes place at the Stilinski compound, so it was time to shake things up a bit. With Scott being the alpha and all, it only seems natural that they would go there too. Right now I'm keeping Malia and Kira out of the story, but they will be joining in the next few chapters as well. So far Derek has yet to make an appearance, but I think it's only inevitable that he shows up at some point. (I'm just going to ignore the fact that he's not actually going to be in Season 5 - I realize that when the first episode airs I'll have to face up to that fact, but for now I'm happy living in fantasy land).**

**This chapter was barely over 500 words, but the next one that I'm going to post tonight or tomorrow morning will be my longest yet! We'll find out a bit further the extent of Lizzie's injuries and... you'll have to wait to read the rest.**

**Also, I must say, everytime I see that some new has read my story, I get the biggest grin on my face. Sometimes I'm just alone in my room, but other times I'm in the computer lab in the business building at school, and I'm sure that people think I'm crazy or something. Or reading a hilariously inappropriate joke. None of which are true. It's just you all and your awesomeness. My happiest moment yesterday was reading _Female whovian_'s comment - you are just so lovely and awesome. **

**Don't forget to check back in later for Chapter 9. Let me know what you think and leave feedback/follow/favorite!**


	10. Chapter 10

For the third time that day, Lizzie was leaning on Liam to walk. She drew the line before being carried again. She hated to admit to herself that she was beginning to rely on him at all. Being carried would push her over her limit.

As they slowly climbed the stairs, Lizzie tried to argue with Lydia that she would be fine in a few days. Really she would. The bruises never lasted more than a three days, and most cuts were healed after a week. "Look," she tried again, as they hit the top final stair and levelled out on the second floor of Scott's house. "You don't know me. You don't need to do this. I'm not asking you too. Heck, I don't want your help. Can't we just get the questions over with? I swear I'll cooperate… Just bring Scott back in and I'll answer whatever you want."

Lydia looked to Liam for confirmation. "She's not lying," he said. A ray of hope bloomed in Lizzie's mind. Maybe she could get out of there soon, race back home and her father would be none the wiser. Then, from there she could figure out how to broach the subject and handle them being discovered by the Beacon Hills pack. In her mind it would work out perfectly.

With a firm shake of her head though, Lydia Martin crushed all of Lizzie's plans once again.

They led Lizzie into what she presumed to be a guest room because of the simple furniture and lack of pictures. Lydia forced the werewolf to sit down on the twin bed and directed Liam to stay put. When she came back, she had bandages, a damp washcloth, and a fresh towel.

Lizzie reached out to take the things with a frustrated sigh. Lydia hesitated before handing them over. "I'll see if I can find you something more comfortable to wear. Don't even think about escaping because Liam will be on the other side of the door and Scott is right outside."

"I won't," Lizzie grumbled, as they shut the door with a click. Lizzie took a minute to just sit there. The two pack members were treating her like some fragile little doll which couldn't have been further from the truth. Their behavior towards her was not what one would expect when dealing with a potentially dangerous werewolf.

Lizzie considered that they could be trying to lure her into a false sense of security. Disarm her with kindness and get her to like them, then they would make their real move.

She had realized back in the car with Lydia that it would be stupid of her to try to escape though. Although she was a usually a force to be reckoned with, at that point in time she was not doing too hot and could definitely not take on two fully functioning werewolves and their crazy friends. Lizzie looked at the things that Lydia had given her and decided that she may as well clean up.

Carefully she began to unbutton her blouse and when she had it off, folded it up on the bed. Her arms were no longer red from the heat and were instead unnaturally pale. They made the bruises stand out even more than before, having progressed to a dark greenish tint. Lizzie next took off the camisole that had plastered against her skin. Although she did it oh so slowly, the pain it caused made her bite down on her lip to prevent herself from making any noise. The only mark on her torso was a dark purple bruise on her lower stomach. That punch had hurt and Lizzie was positive that a few bones had been cracked in the process. She tested it by gently pressing down on the bruise and couldn't help the yelp that escaped her mouth.

Before she could even close her mouth, Liam was calling through the door, "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine!" Lizzie called back, gritting her teeth. She took a break from removing any more clothing and grabbed the washcloth. Carefully getting up from the bed, she circled it and walked towards the window. As she looked outside, she scrubbed her face of the dirt and sweat that had accumulated in the woods. Wiping her arms as well, she noted the still bright daylight that was streaming through into the room. The sight gave her some ease, knowing that she still had time to make it back to her house before dark. She just needed a good excuse for why she was so late.

A flat tire on her bicycle would only support a twenty minute delay at most. Perhaps she could come up with a story about it being a regular part of orientation for new students. Lizzie pondered that for a moment, wrestling over the fictitious details that she would need to make her story believable. Of course, if forced, she couldn't lie to the alpha, but if timed just right he would never suspect a thing.

Lizzie was so wrapped up in her plans that she missed the knock on the door before Lydia walked in. "Here. I wasn't sure what you would be most comfortable in so I brought a variety of…" Lydia froze midstep, mouth dropping. When Lizzie whirled around from the window at the girl's voice, Lydia's mouth dropped even further upon seeing the bruise on her stomach.

"What's wrong?" Liam asked, worried about Lydia's sudden silence and rushing in. A similar look of shock appeared on his face before Lydia spoke up.

"Those are not sports injuries," she croaked, taking a step forward. Automatically Lizzie took a step back, slamming into the window behind her. She looked down at her bruised arms. One could clearly see the imprint of fingertips and little scabs where his claws had gotten her.

"Of course they are," Lizzie snapped back, although she didn't sound very convincing. When she noticed the stack of clothes Lydia brought in, Lizzie walked forward and reached for them. "These are fine, thanks." The two remained silent as Lizzie dug through the pile of clothes and found an old faded t-shirt and slipped it on. Heart pounding in her ears she also pulled on one of the sweatshirts. "Can we go talk to Scott now and get this over with?" She tried to laugh and make it sound sarcastic; however, the grimace gave her away when she pulled down the hem of the sweatshirt.

Lydia and Liam didn't budge. Instead, Lydia held up a hand and closed her eyes in a grimace. "Take off your pants Lizzie."

"Wh… What?" Lizzie stuttered, expecting anything but that.

When Lydia reopened her eyes they were filled with a mix of sadness and anger. "Take them off," she repeated slowly, pretending that Lizzie hadn't understood her. When Lizzie shook her head, Lydia's face softened slightly. "Liam can leave the room if you would prefer, but you are taking off your pants."

"That's not why I don't want to… No," Lizzie muttered, incredulous. She knew what would happen if she complied. She wouldn't. She couldn't.

Seeing Lydia's determination she tried compromising, "Fine, just both of you – leave the room and I'll change into one of the sweatpants you brought me. Okay?"

The redhead shook her head. "No, not okay. I'm staying right here." Liam didn't really seem to understand what Lydia was trying to do, but he nodded in agreement and crossed his arms. Lizzie was beginning to realize the arm crossing was a habit of his whenever things got tense. Part of her felt bad for causing all of this, for ever coming to Beacon Hills in the first place.

"Whatever," Lizzie said, rolling her eyes. She sat down on the bed and quickly slipped off her shoes, a pair of well-worn green Converse. With a huff she went through the clothing until she found some sweatpants that looked like they would fit. Without looking up, she stood and quickly slipped off her black leggings. Once off, Lizzie could almost feel the stares locked on her legs. She began to shake as she quickly stuffed one leg into the sweatpants. It threw her off balance though and she had to sit back down on the bed to make the room stop temporarily spinning.

She then worked at getting the other pant leg on but her joints were too stiff. As she struggled, a hand came to rest on her own. It was light as a feather. Gentle and not forceful. Lizzie looked away in frustration as Lydia helped her stand and remove the pants. "We need to clean these up first or they'll get infected, alright?" Gone was the fiery redhead and in her place was this soft spoken girl. Considerate. Caring. It made Lizzie want to cry. She couldn't remember the last time anyone had spoken to her like that. "I'm going to go find some looser pants so that they don't irritate your legs as much."

Lizzie was still looking away when Lydia left the room, so she was surprised when Liam came and sat down in front of her on the floor, having completely forgotten he was there. She looked down at him to find his eyes staring at her legs with a pained expression. Without a sound, he reached out and gently began to unravel the bandages.

There were several, covering a good portion of Lizzie's legs. And they were stained with old blood - she had put them on that morning. The cuts must have reopened while she was running away in the school. It would certainly explain why she was feeling so lightheaded.

Liam must have felt her gaze on him, because he suddenly jerked his head up to look at her. Caught staring, Lizzie quickly turned her head away again. She didn't like the pity she saw in the boy's eyes. There was nothing to be pitied. Lizzie had lied to her father… she had not followed his orders and made the alpha angry. She knew the consequences and still had done it anyways. If she had handled things differently, she would never be sitting in the enemy pack's house, at the mercy of a bunch of unpredictable, supernatural teenagers. Their being werewolves didn't unnerve her; it was the unpredictable part that scared Lizzie the most.

Here she was, sitting in a stranger's room with her scars and weaknesses literally exposed for all to see. Any other pack would have taken full advantage of her weakened state, using it to force out answers and secrets. Lizzie had practically volunteered to do just that to get out of there, and instead they were more concerned with her health. It didn't add up. They had to have some ulterior motive.

Lizzie just stared at the wall, following that train of thought until it became clear. Their end goal was the same; they were just getting there a different way. By helping her and being kind to her, they were probably tallying up some kind of debt total in their head. Now she owed them.

Every second that ticked by racked up more time. And who knew what additional things they would make her to do to repay them. It was too much for Lizzie to take. "I can take the bandages off. You don't need to do that," she said forcefully, leaning down and shooing Liam away as she picked up where he had left off.

She was fine for a minute, but one of the bandages had stuck together from the dried blood and Lizzie was having a hard time pulling it apart. Liam's hands returned in her field of vision and reached to help her. "Stop," she said, pushing him away again. "You all have done enough. I don't need one more thing to owe you for." Lizzie hadn't meant to say that last part out loud, but there it was.

Liam finally did stop and stood up. "You think we're trying to help you so that you owe us something?" His face twisted in disgust before he shook his head, sounding exasperated. He crossed his arms and Lizzie had to hold back a smile that would be entirely inappropriate for the situation. "Lizzie, you were barely able to stand. I thought you were going to pass out. Scott just needs to ask you a few questions to make sure the pack is safe. He could have done that in the woods but…"

"Then why…" Lizzie started, but Liam fixed her with a stare and she shut up.

"He could have questioned you in the woods. We didn't bring you here for that," he said.

"We brought you here because you looked like death warmed over," Lydia supplied, interrupting with her presence. She walked into the guest room with a larger pair of sweatpants and some antibacterial cream. More seriously she said, "We brought you here because you were injured and obviously had no one to take care of you." Lydia had walked over to the bed as she was speaking and took Liam's place on the floor.

As Lizzie listened to her talk, she allowed Lydia to unwrap the bandages and clean her cuts. A lump had formed in her throat and her vision was getting blurry. This time it wasn't from blood loss though. With an overwhelming wave of emotion, Lizzie realized that she was crying. With a sniffle, she wiped her eyes with the sleeve of the borrowed sweatshirt and tried to recompose herself. "I just don't understand why you're helping me. I'm the enemy."

"Enemy?" Lydia and Liam asked at the same time, alarmed. Lydia continued with, "Are you here to kill us?"

"Well, no," Lizzie admitted.

"Are you trying to hurt us?" Liam asked next, trying to prove a point.

"No," Lizzie responded reluctantly.

"Then you are not the enemy," Lydia stated without a hint of hesitation in her voice. The unwavering faith that this girl had in Lizzie was startling. Even more startling was that Lizzie realized that she was beginning to trust them too. All of them- Liam and Lydia in particular, but also Stiles and Scott. It was such a shift from just minutes ago where she had been frantically trying to think of a way to escape. Something had changed when Lydia had given her mini speech and with them in the guest room, Lizzie felt strangely enough – safe.

"Almost done," Lydia murmured, and Lizzie bent over the edge of the bed to inspect her legs which were now clean and freshly bandaged in white cloth. "We should probably put some of this antibacterial cream on your arms too." She threw the bottle over her shoulder towards Liam who caught it without a blink, and resumed readjusting the bandages.

Liam walked over hesitantly as Lizzie began to pull off her sweatshirt. "I'm not going to fight you," Lizzie said, sticking out an arm. Looking somewhat reassured, Liam sat down beside her and unscrewed the cap on the bottle of cream.

She had kind of been in another world when Lydia was working on her legs, not feeling much of anything and focused solely on the words coming out of the pack members' mouths. Then though, as Liam dabbed the cold cream on the claw marks on her arm, she hissed at the sudden coldness and jerked back. Liam grabbed onto her arm and pulled it back towards him. "I thought you said you weren't going to fight me," he said, raising an eyebrow.

"It's cold," Lizzie argued.

Liam smirked and twisted Lizzie's arm to get some of the cuts on the bottom. They had only bled a little bit before and there wasn't any need for bandages. "So who did you make angry enough to do this?" he asked casually, as he gestured for her other arm.

"It was just a nasty fight, that's all," Lizzie lied.

"Liam?" Lydia questioned, grabbing a round metal garbage can and throwing away the bloody bandages. As expected, Liam shook his head. Lizzie wasn't used to being surrounded by werewolves. The only one she been around for the last few years was her father. She hadn't been with a pack for about the same amount of time.

For some reason, probably the same feeling in her gut that made her want to trust these people, Lizzie felt the urge to tell them everything. She settled for a half truth – no lies, but certainly not everything. "I made some mistakes," she said, trying to keep her voice calm. "Getting hurt was entirely my fault."

"She's telling the truth," Liam told Lydia, as she helped the other girl pull on the pair of baggy sweatpants and sweatshirt. His eyes were locked on Lizzie as he added, "But I don't believe you for a second."

* * *

**This is my longest chapter so far. Lizzie is having a sort of internal struggle because on the one hand, she's starting to like the Beacon Hills pack (I mean, how can you not?). On the other hand though, becoming friends with them, or even associating with them at all, could potentially create a lot of trouble. I know if I were her I would camp out in Scott McCall's guest room and never leave again. *Sigh* But that would not make for a very interesting story, would it?**

**Although... I have read quite a few good one-shots that take place in a bedroom and/or living room (Pack feels anyone?) so I guess it is possible.**

**AnimeHunter411\- **Thanks! I absolutely adore Lydia as a character so there was no way I couldn't include her in this story. Also, I miss her connection with Allison and really hope that in Season 5 her relationships grow stronger with Kira and Malia.

**Halfcent\- **I wish I had gotten into the Walking Dead, because that would be a great space filler between Teen Wolf seasons. After a few episodes though, I just wasn't feeling it. And thanks for the recommendation! I've actually read "Moving In The Dark" and was heartbroken when I realized it hadn't been updated in some time. I'm glad you like reading about Scott as alpha. It seems that a lot of people think he's too weak and not very good, but for just being a teenager, I think he's doing pretty well. And Isaac... I felt the exact same way. At first I hated Liam - like you said, he is no Isaac! I also didn't like his attitude; however, he started getting better towards the end and I had to remind myself that I also didn't like Jackson at first, and now that he's gone I wish he would come back. And I for one am also glad that Lizzie didn't attack anyone in the car. That would have been very messy. As for Derek - they announced about 2 weeks ago that Tyler Hoechlin was no longer going to be a series regular on Teen Wolf. They said that he wanted to try working on some films. Jeff Davis said that Derek wasn't gone for good, but I'm not holding my breath - every other time a character has left the show to make movies, we've never seen them again... Isaac! (Thank you so much for all of your comments! I love reading them and seeing which chapter you're on as you progress in the story). - _If anyone is looking for a good Isaac story, make sure to check out Halfcent's one-shot called: __A New Loyalty. I just read it and it's awesome!_

**I've been writing this story about 7 chapters in advance thus far. And I knew it was coming, but I've hit a little snag. Not a block, because I've still been chugging out chapters... it's just that where I'm at in the story there has been a shift in dynamics and I'm having to work around a lot of heart-wrenching revelations and kind of emotionally-heavy dialogue. I prefer sarcasm, quick pace, and sass (especially sass from Stiles, which is the best!). So I think I'm going to keep writing and then go back later and do some heavy editing as I post. One chapter just read really awkwardly and very teen-angsty, which is not what I want to portray at all! **

**Anyways, I just wanted to share a bit about where I'm at with my writing of the story, whether you care or not (probably not, because we're strangers and this is the internet). Either way, thanks to those who have continued to read "You Don't Know Me." Follows, favorites and feedback is welcome! (And if you have any Teen Wolf fanfiction recommendations personally written or otherwise, feel free to share! I plow through them pretty quickly.)**


	11. Chapter 11

Eventually Lydia let Stiles and Scott back into the house, and that time, the scent wasn't quite as overwhelming for Lizzie. In a way, she was growing used to it.

As they sat her down on the living room couch between Lydia and Liam, Scott and Stiles pulled in chairs from the kitchen to sit across from them.

Neither Scott nor Stiles made any mention of Lizzie's change in clothes, but nevertheless, they sat in tension-filled silence for a full minute before anyone spoke up. Unsurprisingly it was Stiles to break the awkward quiet. "So, what grade are you in?" Scott looked at him pointedly as if to say the question was stupid, to which Stiles held up his hands in defense. "What? We've got to start somewhere." Seeing that he had a point, everyone turned to Lizzie to hear her answer.

"Tenth."

"Huh," Liam said, mulling it over. "Same here. You'd think we'd have more classes together."

Lizzie felt her face heat up in a blush, although it had nothing to do with werewolves. She didn't really know how they would take it that she was in mostly advanced classes. If things were at all similar to her old school, kids in advanced classes were seen as another species. Everyone stayed away from as if they had the plague. Things were a lot different at Beacon Hills compared to her old school though. "Oh, well... I'm in regular economics and gym, but the rest are AP classes."

That seemed to pique Lydia and Stiles's interest, but earned groans from Scott and Liam. Lydia rolled her eyes. "Well, I must say that having a properly informed and well-educated werewolf around would be quite refreshing. Some of us here seem to think that brawn is more important than brains. As past events have shown however, that is not the case."

The other werewolves in the room seemed to take offense to that. "Oh quit it. You both know it's true," Stiles said, quickly silencing them. He gave a calculating look at Lizzie, "Besides, I have so many unanswered questions about werewolves that these knuckle brains can't answer. Would you be up for that sometime?"

"Um... maybe," Lizzie said, not wanting to get the boy's hopes up. Stiles seemed to take it as a yes though, and withdrew into himself, no doubt already forming a list of questions to ask her.

"Anyways, where are you from originally?" Scott asked, ignoring his best friend and trying to get them back on track.

"I'm from the city. San Francisco," she replied. Her father would hate her for giving away any information about their past in the slightest, but she didn't see the harm. She knew that the questions were going to get more difficult from there, and there was no way that she could get away lying with Liam and Scott in the room.

"Really?" Scott asked, surprised. San Francisco was hours away from Beacon Hills, and while the smaller California town had its perks, there wasn't anything special about it. In fact, most people actually moved from Beacon Hills to San Francisco, not the other way around.

Lizzie knew that they would want to know the circumstances surrounding the move and she nervously scratched the back of her neck. "Um…" She paused, knowing the damage that she could cause if she answered wrong. "Family death. Needed a fresh start." Not a lie.

Lydia murmured her apologies and Lizzie gave the girl a tired smile in thanks. She could see the gears in Stiles's head were still turning and he press further, but thankfully Scott didn't give him the chance, diving right into the next round of questions. "Who all came with you? Are they werewolves as well?"

It was inevitable. At least, that's what Lizzie told herself. They would have found out eventually whether it came from her or not. Her father would probably not agree, but maybe she could convince him that it was better to be straight with the pack. Lizzie stifled a laugh. That wasn't likely as even to her own ears it sounded like a flimsy defense. "It's just my father and me."

"And he's a…" Stiles prodded, trailing off at the end, but his meaning was clear.

She gulped. "Yes."

"Are you running from something? Is that why you moved here?" Scott's usually calm demeanor visibly tensed as he posed the questions. "I mean, is there a chance that anything could have followed you here?" To her right, Liam wrung his hands together while waiting to hear her response. Lydia had gone still beside on the couch to her left. Even Stiles seemed to be holding his breath. Lizzie briefly wondered what types of things they had dealt with in the past.

"No," Lizzie said, and of that she was confident. "No one will follow us here." What she didn't say was that there was no one left to follow them. Anyone that would have even thought of trailing them to Beacon Hills was gone.

A collective sigh released amongst the group. Scott closed his eyes and the briefest hint of a smile lit up his face as the tension left his body. "I guess I just have to ask you one more thing then," he said, looking to his friends to see if they had anything else that they needed to ask. Although Stile paused briefly, they all shook their heads no. Redirecting his attention back to Lizzie he said, "There's not a really good way to ask this so I won't beat around the bush. I just need to know what your intentions are in coming to Beacon Hills. Are you planning to attack or take over my pack?"

His forwardness did not surprise Lizzie at all. The pack was his family. You don't waste time with pleasantries if you think someone's a threat.

Lizzie shook her head. "No. I have no intention of putting your pack in danger." She wasn't sure if anyone caught her use of the word 'I,' but she couldn't have answered honestly while including her father in the statement. An image of him holding that gun entered her mind. She thought of his threat that last Friday when he had discovered there was a pack in Beacon Hills.

It made Lizzie feel slightly guilty; no, she hadn't lied, but she hadn't told the entire truth either. In the beginning she hadn't cared if anything happened to the Beacon Hills pack. Now, after having met them, she wasn't so indifferent to their fate. She certainly didn't want them to get hurt, but she thought that they seemed pretty smart for their age, and she really wasn't positive about what her father was going to do. Maybe she had misinterpreted.

Good thing werewolves couldn't read minds though. Scott and Liam nodded to each other, confirming that she had been honest.

Satisfied, the boys jumped out of their seats and went straight to the kitchen. There was a lot of noise as they opened and shut cupboard doors. Lizzie heard the microwave turn on with a low thrum, and then the crackling sound of popcorn being made.

Lizzie was shocked that they didn't have any more questions for her. She had expected for them to drill her for hours. It made her wonder how long they all had been involved with werewolf business. She doubted that any of them were natural born werewolves, as surely they would have been taught some interrogation skills as part of their training. Lizzie had been the youngest member of the pack and still she had picked up a thing or two. The only skill they seemed to have mastered was detecting lies. Sure, it was useful, but it only got you so far if you didn't know how to ask the right questions.

Lydia grumbled as the smell of popcorn drafted into the living room, but couldn't help the amused expression that spread across her face. "I swear, all they ever think about is food." She looked over to Lizzie. "We should probably get you home soon." In response, Lizzie stood up and stretched, giving a yawn. After everything that had happened that day, she was extremely exhausted and wanted nothing more than to go back to her house and take a long nap.

After pulling Stiles away from the kitchen, Lydia convinced him with surprising ease to drive them to their houses. Lydia sprawled out on the backseat of the Jeep, and Lizzie sat in the front with Stiles, who had brought along a bag of freshly popped popcorn and offered her some before taking off.

First they dropped off Lydia since her house was closer. She gave Stiles a friendly peck on the cheek and patted Lizzie gently on the shoulder before getting out of the car and making her way to her front door.

Lizzie noticed that Stiles waited until Lydia had gone in before driving away, and until that moment, she had forgotten that the redhead was human. Vulnerable. Unlike Scott and Liam, the humans couldn't protect themselves or heal if they got attacked. Lizzie almost choked at the thought and started to cough. She had reasoned with herself that if her father did anything, the teen werewolves stood a good chance of making it out alive. She had forgotten that they weren't all werewolves though… one bullet and they would be gone.

"Are you okay?" Stiles asked in concern once Lizzie had finished her coughing. Lizzie nodded and started opening the door of the Jeep. "Where are you going?" He turned to face her, watching in confusion as she unbuckled her seatbelt.

"I should probably walk back myself. It'll just be better that way," she replied, reaching in the back to retrieve her book bag. It had slid a little under the backseat and Lizzie had to really stretch to get it. Just another inch and she had her finger looped around one of the book bag's straps. It pulled on the pain in her stomach though, and she grimaced, roughly pulling the bag up to the front. When she had the bag in her lap she paused, both of them realizing that she was in no state to walk back to her house.

Stiles, not missing a beat, silently reached across Lizzie making sure not to brush against her, and shut her car door. While he hadn't been there to see all of Lizzie's injuries, no doubt he was informed some way or another by one of the pack members. They all had this freaky kind of psychic bond thing going on, being able to communicate with just a look. It vaguely reminded Lizzie of her own pack when she was younger.

Stiles waited until she had buckled herself in again to drive off, and Lizzie gave him directions.

"Stop here," she finally said, indicating a spot along the road less than a block from her house. Stiles slowed down and pulled off to the side as directed, and Lizzie eased out of the Jeep. He didn't bat an eye when she pulled out her bottle of cheap perfume and right outside the car began covering her body in it. Lizzie imagined that after discovering werewolves were real, there wasn't much more that could phase him.

It wasn't unheard of to have humans in a werewolf pack, but it also wasn't common. Even more uncommon was to have humans so young voluntarily join. His, Lydia and the other human Kira's trust in their friends must have been unbelievably strong. The pack was lucky to have them.

"See you at school," Stiles said and Lizzie gave a small wave goodbye as he checked over his shoulder for traffic and pulled back onto the main road. Lizzie looked around nervously before bringing her sleeve up to her nose. She sneezed, but was satisfied to only smell the perfume and not any traces of the Beacon Hills pack.

* * *

**So this chapter is where Scott finally gets down to business and asks Lizzie why she is in Beacon Hills. He doesn't ask her a lot, and that's for a few reasons. First, while Scott is a great guy, he's not quite the greatest alpha yet. He's learning, but it's going to take some time. Second, as we've seen in the show, most interrogations and questioning sessions get the gang nowhere. I think they need to take a crash course or something, because even the Sheriff and Peter, who are both interrogators although in completely different fields, basically stink at getting any answers. And finally, it's obvious from the way Lizzie's acting that she's hiding something. The pack can definitely sense it, and I think they genuinely want to help her, not scare her off. **

**Not much to say except thanks for continuing to read! My plans have remained the same in wanting to post daily, and I'll let you all know if something changes. Please favorite/follow and leave feedback!**


	12. Chapter 12

According to the clock on the wall when Lizzie entered the house, it was 10:00 pm. When they had first arrived at the McCall house, it was still mostly light outside, but by the time they had left, it had darkened considerably. There were no lights on inside, which meant that her father had probably stayed late at work. Lizzie felt an overwhelming sense of relief.

When she flipped the living room light on, she cried out upon seeing a figure standing in the kitchen doorway. She squinted, vision still a little fuzzy, and realized it was her father. Trying to calm down her rapidly beating heart, she put a hand to her chest and let out a shaky breath. "Geez, you scared me!" Lizzie gave her best fake laugh and laid her bag down by the front door.

Her father took one step out of the shadows and into the light of the living room. His glowing red eyes and outstretched claws made Lizzie want to run out. When he barked at her to close the door though, she did as she was told, shutting the front door and sealing off any false pretense of escape.

"Why are you back so late?" he demanded. Lizzie's father was still standing at the edge of the room, but the way he growled the words made it feel as if he was standing right next to her. She felt him tug on the connection that linked together an alpha and his pack, forcing her to answer him.

"After school stuff," she tried to say nonchalantly. Knowing that her father would demand more details she added, "I couldn't ride my bike back. I wasn't able to get to it." She was walking on eggshells, she knew. So far she hadn't lied. She really couldn't have gotten to her bicycle on account of being chased by a werewolf through the hallways at school. Her father didn't need to know that part though.

"And it took you until 10:00 to walk back?" He didn't look convinced. In fact, his face was slowly melting into a taunting smile, as if just waiting for her to make a wrong move.

Lizzie had an answer for that too though. "Something about being new?" she muttered, trying to feign annoyance. "It was kind of a welcome to Beacon Hills sort of thing. They asked me some questions and stuff. It was all very pointless, really, because I had nothing of interest to say to them." That was stretching what had happened a bit, but in a way the four pack members had been welcoming Lizzie to Beacon Hills.

The chasing and interrogation part wasn't exactly a friendly sort of occurrence, and it wasn't at all related to school, but she had never said it was. And she did believe it was pointless. What they wanted to know concerned her father, not Lizzie, and she hadn't given up anything about her alpha.

Lizzie waited as her father sniffed the air, sensing for lies. He took longer than usual, probably also listening for any changes in her heartbeat that he could detect.

"Look…" she drawed out, not faking the yawn that escaped her mouth. "I really just want to get this horrible perfume off of me, take a shower and go to bed. I'm going to have to walk to school tomorrow since my bike's still there." Lizzie began walking to the stairs and relaxed when her father didn't protest.

She was halfway up to her room, still going at a slower than normal pace, when her father spoke again. "Where did you get the clothes?"

Confused for a moment, Lizzie spun on the steps. "What?" she asked, looking down at what she was wearing. She had expected to see the blouse and pants that she had worn to school that day. Instead, she saw the borrowed sweatpants and sweatshirt. "Oh… I, uh…" she began, wracking her brain. While focusing on her story and covering up the pack's scent, she had completely forgotten about the clothes. "We had to go in the woods as part of the 'welcome' thing," Lizzie said, putting air quotes around 'welcome.'

She thought about the sweat, blood and dirt that had stained her other clothes and frowned. "I got my clothes all messed up and someone offered me this. Actually, I should probably put this in the wash tonight so I can return it to them tomorrow." She started back up the stairs again, pushing herself to go a little faster that time no matter how much pain it caused her. "Do you have anything you need me to put in?"

"Yeah, I've got a pile of stuff down there," her father replied, heading back into the kitchen. When Lizzie reached her room, she stood by the door frame, listening. When she heard the faucet turn on downstairs, and the click of the television, Lizzie walked into her room. She stared around at the plain décor thinking of how it looked quite similar to the guest bedroom at the McCall's. With a shaky hand she turned around and closed the door. Then, with a click of the lock she began peeling off her clothes and went to her dresser to find her own pair of sweatpants and sweatshirt to put on.

A knock on her bedroom door had Lizzie frozen, one leg in and one leg out of the sweatpants. "Lizzie?" her father called from the hallway.

"Yeah?" she said, not moving, holding her breath as she waited to hear what he wanted. It took a moment before he responded.

"What was the name of the kid who let you borrow their things?" he asked. There was a slight creak as her father shifted his weight from foot to foot on the hardwood floors. The house was old but had been the perfect distance between his work and Lizzie's school. Her father found the creaking floors and squeaky cabinets to be annoying. Lizzie found them charming. Just another difference between the two. "Lizzie?" her father prodded when his daughter hadn't answered him right away.

"Oh! Sorry!" Lizzie said, going through her options as she yanked her pants on. "I am just trying to remember who it was. I didn't really get to know anyone that well." She paused for another moment to think. "Hmmm… Oh, I think her name was Lydia maybe? She has gym class with me."

"Lydia," her father said testing it out, and the way he said it made Lizzie wonder if she had just made a mistake. Her father knocked on the door again. "Open up." His voice was devoid of emotion. Not angry, but not anything else either.

Lizzie walked over to the door, then unlocked and opened it. One look at her father's face and she knew. Lizzie looked down, a cold chill running down her spine. She knew it had been a mistake to mention Lydia's name.

It was only a guess, but she was pretty positive how he had found out. She had stupidly assumed that her father would have dropped contact with other werewolves after what had happened. Apparently she didn't give him enough credit though, and he still had at least one connection remaining. He had probably called them and found out the names of the Beacon Hills pack members.

Maybe he had even known about the werewolves before they moved to town in the first place. That meant she had been doomed from the beginning. Her alpha was always a step ahead of her. He was smarter, stronger, faster. She felt like an idiot for thinking that she could have gotten anything by him.

When the punch came that time, she was prepared.

* * *

**So now her father knows that she's been in contact with the other pack... and that can't lead to anything good. That will come to head at school the next day, which will be covered in several of the next chapters. Like I mentioned before, I'm not going to be too graphic with the abuse that Lizzie suffers at the hands of her father. That's not really my intention with this story - I'm more interested in the cause of her father's behavior (backstory and all of that fun stuff that will be revealed soon), and the effect that the behavior has on Lizzie (and to a lesser extent - the Beacon Hills pack). **

**Dealing with werewolves and lies is a tricky thing. It seems that if they are listening/smelling for it, you can't get away with any outright lies. However, if you are telling the truth (just leaving out details), that seems to be okay. They're never entirely clear on that in the show (in fact, I think it mostly has to deal with listening to the heart and not the smelling part... the smelling always seems to have to do with sensing someone being nervous, which is also an indication of a lie I think).**

**Halfcent\- **I totally understand where you are coming from with the pants thing. It's always seemed like werewolves are more comfortable physically with that sort of thing than humans, so that's where my head was at when writing that scene. However, I think you have a point and I'm going to reason that Lizzie wasn't exactly in the right state of mind that night when everything went down (I've already written a future chapter that deals with this a little more, and I took your comment into consideration). And same here with the hurt/comfort fanfiction - especially when focused on Isaac, those stories are always heartbreaking but wonderful. I too hope that Derek is at least mentioned, if not occasionally appearing in Season 5. I'm kind of a hypocrite to complain about unfinished stories, because I haven't updated one of mine in awhile :) And of course you're welcome about recommending one of your stories! I completely agree. In fact, it seems that unless it deals with Scott or Stiles the show leaves a lot of loose ends with the other characters. Aww... I hope that whether or not your guess is right, the actual revelation isn't disappointing! Anyways, thanks as always for the thoughtful comments!

**AnimeHunter411\- **Thank you! I can't wait to share that chapter with you.

**Please let me know what you think! Follows/Favorites and Feedback is welcome!**


	13. Chapter 13

Lizzie's father wasn't at the house when she left early for school Tuesday morning. The fact that she was even going to school surprised her. She was sure after the previous night that they would be leaving immediately. Packs, no matter the size, could never live on the same territory as another pack for long. It was always a temporary thing. Not because they were enemies necessarily; it was just their general nature.

However, she couldn't help but think back to what she realized when her father had been standing at her bedroom door. He hadn't just known that there would be werewolves in Beacon Hills. He had known and moved them there anyways.

Maybe he hadn't been thinking clearly. Sometimes his emotions just took over and he worked without a plan. This time seemed calculated though. Deliberate. Lizzie had a strong suspicion of what he was doing, but she pushed it away as insanity. Even for her father that idea was ridiculous.

It took her twice as long as usual to get to school without her bicycle, and despite having a few additional bruises from her most recent punishment, the others were healing nicely and she no longer felt on the verge of passing out. As far as she was concerned, that was improvement and she'd take what she could get given the less than ideal circumstances.

Having full blood flow to the brain and plenty of oxygen though meant that she was back to her hyper-aware senses. She felt on edge walking into school, feeling that at any moment something terrible was going to happen. Every slammed locker sounded like a gong inside her hear. Every footstep down the hall reverberated in her body ten-fold. Lizzie gripped the straps of her book bag tighter, telling herself that she needed to calm down or she would have a lot of explaining to do if she suddenly shifted right in homeroom.

"Are you okay?" Lizzie wasn't at all surprised to hear the question as Lydia Martin walked up to stand by Lizzie's locker. Lizzie nodded, amazed and at the same time annoyed at how many times she had been asked that same question in the past twenty four hours. "Are you sure? I know sometimes we all can be a little much. I mean, you haven't met Kira yet, but she's pretty harmless…" Lydia must have thought her last statement was funny, because her lips spread into a wide, dimpled grin as she laughed. "And there's Malia who's… well, she's Malia."

Lizzie silently wished that the redhead would go away, but she continued to stand there and chat like they were best friends as Lizzie hunted for her economics book that would finally give her an excuse to leave. Lydia cleared her throat and pointed to the top shelf. Following the direction she was pointing, Lizzie saw the green spine of her economics book and pulled it off. Noticing that Lizzie hadn't said a word since she walked up, Lydia lowered her voice and repeated her earlier question, "Are you sure you're okay?"

With a nod, Lizzie closed her locker and squeezed by Lydia to walk to class. She knew Lydia wouldn't let it go, but she was glad that the girl hadn't pressed the issue. It seemed like an impossible situation. She couldn't tell them the truth because that would be betraying her alpha. She also couldn't lie to them because, aside from the obvious fact that the werewolves would know, she really didn't want them to get hurt. And if they got involved with her father, hurt was inevitable.

The second warning bell rang just as Lizzie slipped into her seat. A few rows in front of her she saw Liam pull out his cellphone, and after reading a text message, not so subtly glance back at her. Lizzie felt like rolling her eyes. Lydia.

"Dunbar! Put that phone away unless you want to run double laps during practice," their teacher, Coach Finstock, shouted. Liam quickly slipped it back into his pocket and mumbled an apology. Satisfied, Finstock scanned the classroom, saying, "As many of you are probably aware, I received some complaints last year about doing too much lecturing and not enough hands on learning in my classes." He began pacing from side to side, continuing to eye the students. "I say that because I recognize several of you as repeats from last year and assume that you were the ones making the complaints. Isn't that right Greenburg?!" At this, he paused and jerked his gaze to the back of the classroom where some poor soul sank further into his seat.

"Anyways," their teacher resumed, fingering the whistle hanging around his neck. Lizzie wondered if he ever used it during class or if it was reserved just for coaching. "I am not one to disregard feedback, however worthless and unfounded it may be, so this week instead of me teaching you, you'll be teaching each other." Finstock turned around and walked to the chalkboard. "Pair up in groups of two! Each group will cover part of the chapter and will present to the rest of the class starting to tomorrow."

At once the class scrambled and Lizzie looked around, trying to count the students. She hoped there was an odd number and that she could work by herself.

Then Liam slipped into the vacated seat beside Lizzie and flashed her a brilliant smile.

Lizzie ignored him and started looking around, suddenly extremely motivated in finding a partner. "I'm hurt, really," Liam said as he watched Lizzie frantically glance around the room. "Sorry, looks like you're stuck with me. Unless of course you want to pair up with Greenburg."

Lizzie took one look at the kid that Finstock had been yelling at earlier and turned back to Liam, flipping open her book to the chapter they were supposed to be covering. Liam did the same, all the while keeping that stupid smile on his face.

* * *

**This chapter is the last one where everything kind of comes to head with the pack. It's just setting everything up, so be prepared for tomorrow (or the day after that) for a super long and intense update. Most of the pack members will be present, and there's a lot of stuff going on. I'm very excited to share it with all of you.**

**Thanks to Female whovian and Mary for their lovely comments! And GoingClassic- **I just realized that the other day. I think I forgot after having mostly been reading other werewolf stories and not watching the show for a few weeks. Thanks for the insight!

**As always, I appreciate Follows/Favorites and Feedback!**

**(I will try to post tomorrow, but this week is going to be super hectic with school, and it's a very long chapter to edit...)**


	14. Chapter 14

Just because they were partners though, didn't mean that Lizzie had to talk to him. After getting assigned their section of the chapter, they sat back and read it to themselves. It was a good five pages on opportunity cost, which ended up taking half of the class period to read. Lizzie scribbled some notes as she went, jotting down ideas on the margins of her paper on how they could present their topic to the class.

She saw Liam raise his head when he was done, and although she had already finished and gone back over the pages again, she tried to drag it out a few more minutes by pretending to still still reading. "Lizzie, I know you finished awhile ago," Liam snorted, reaching over and tapping his pen against the edge of her book. When she raised her eyes to look at him feigning ignorance he just sighed. Giving up the act, Lizzie tore out the notes she had written down and passed them over to Liam. To teach the class about opportunity cost she thought that they could give a brief overview of the important terms and then find a real life example.

Liam nodded his head thoughtfully and smiled. "Yeah, good idea. What were you thinking of using as the example?" Lizzie shrugged her shoulders. Apparently getting into his thinking mode, Liam put his pen in his mouth and started flipping back through the book.

Lizzie left him to his thinking and laid her head down on her desk. It was going to be a long day and she couldn't put off talking forever. She shifted one of her arms and readjusted the shirt she had chosen that day – a thin black turtleneck. Although it paired nicely with her skinny jeans, it made her feel like she was in a sauna. She had considered wearing a scarf instead, but she hadn't been able to find any thick enough to cover her neck.

"I've got it!" Liam said suddenly and Lizzie straightened in her seat, yawning and stretching out. Her partner raised an eyebrow at her, smiling. "Long night?" Lizzie almost smiled back, but bit down on her lip and glanced away. "Fine, fine," he said, throwing his hands up in the air. "Why don't we meet during lunch to finish going over this. You can sit with us in the cafeteria."

Although she had no intention of doing any such thing, Lizzie nodded her head. Handing back her notes, Liam glanced up at the clock. "And you can get it in a few more minutes of sleep." Seeing her resistance he gave her a pointed look and flashed his golden eyes. "Don't worry, I'll wake you up."

* * *

**I know I promised a long chapter today, but I'm not sure if I'm going to get to it, so I have this little ficlet to tide you over. I may post again tonight if I get everything I need done (PowerPoint presentation, yoga, economics practice exam...), but it will definitely go up by tomorrow at the latest.**

**Thanks for everyone's continued support! Feedback/Follow/Favorite... the "3 F's" as your heart desires! Happy Tuesday wolfies.**


	15. Chapter 15

When she was younger, Lizzie loved to sleep. After tucking her in to bed, her mother would press a kiss to her forehead and whisper, "Sweet dreams." And they always were. As she slept, visions of colorful forests and bright pastures would fill her mind. In her dreams, there were always wolves.

Wolves of all different shapes and sizes playing in the tall grass or dashing through the trees. No matter what how she felt before bed, the dreams always brought her a sense of calm and security as she slept. Once, her mother let it slip that sometimes she would go into Lizzie's room and just watch her sleep. She said that there was always a smile on her face while she dreamed. Lizzie believed it. It would have been impossible not to smile amongst all of that happiness.

After her mother died and things went bad with the pack, there was an abrupt shift. There were still forests and pastures. There were still wolves. Everything was just darker. The colors seemed muted, like someone had laid a black cloak over the sun. Lizzie didn't feel calm when she slept anymore. Every night her sleep was filled with death. Death and blood and agony.

There were limbs at odd angles peeking at the corner of her vision. Some wolf. Some human. Lizzie saw a body face down in the ground, its familiar red hair splaying wildly around.

She felt a rustle on her shoulder. In her dream it felt like a knife was being plunged into her arm. There was a poke on her back. Claws raked down her spine. "Wake up Lizzie." In her dream… no, in her nightmare, it was said in a blood-curdling growl.

Lizzie shot up in her seat, clutching the edge of her desk. When she realized where she was, she calmed down immensely, trying not to cause a scene. She needn't have worried though. The classroom was empty aside from Liam standing beside her, looking down in concern. "You weren't waking up. I didn't mean to scare you," he apologized.

"It's fine," Lizzie rasped, tucking her hair behind her ears and leaning down to get her bag before remembering that she was trying not to talk. Too late.

"What happened to your voice?" Liam asked, looking even more worried. She didn't blame him. Her voice sounded raw, like it had been run through a meat grinder. Lizzie waved him off and grabbed her economics book off her desk. "Don't do that." He sounded angry. Looking down, Lizzie sidestepped around him, but he grabbed her arm. "What happened?" When he saw her eyes flicker to the door he said, "No one has class in here second period. And don't even think about trying to run again."

Although he still sounded mad, Lizzie wasn't afraid. At least, she wasn't afraid of Liam hurting her. She knew in her gut that he wouldn't. None of them would. And knowing that, Lizzie resolved that she had to leave. Some way, she had to convince her father that they to go. She couldn't stand by and watch them get hurt, so the only way to protect them was to remove the threat. Since her father was that threat, by association she was too.

It made her sad to think about. She hadn't felt protective of anything since her old pack. Honestly, she'd thought that part of her – the part that could care – was gone. Then, just when she had gotten it back, she had to leave. If Liam and his friends knew what she thought her father was planning, they wouldn't back down. Her mind flashed to her dreams where she saw wolves slaughtered in a bloodbath. Their weakened howls pierced her soul.

Even if the Beacon Hills pack somehow managed to make it out unscathed, they would no doubt discover the truth about Lizzie as well. She no longer thought they'd kill her, but everything would change. They would never look at her the same.

"I need to leave," Lizzie whispered, and she could tell from Liam's face that he knew she wasn't just talking about leaving for class.

"No." He shook his head. "Whatever it is, we can help you." He gestured to her arms where he had helped clean her injuries. "This isn't your fault. If you just tell me, we can get you out of it."

"You don't know anything," Lizzie whispered, venom in the words. She tried to yank her arm out of Liam's grasp but he was stronger and wouldn't let go.

Then she felt that they were no longer the only two in the room. She looked to the doorway to see Scott and Lydia standing there. Liam let out a relieved sigh and Lizzie knew that he had been stalling, hoping Scott would sense that something was off and find them.

She was supposed to be already on her way to her house, thinking of how to convince her father to leave town. They shouldn't be there.

With a stern scowl from Scott, Liam finally let go of Lizzie's arm and she skittered back from them. Lydia took a step towards her, arms outstretched like she was some stray dog. "Stay away from me!" Lizzie yelled, voice cracking on every word. Lydia's gaze flickered to Liam in concern, but he gave her a hopeless shrug. Lizzie should have stayed quiet. Instead, showing the full extent of her damaged voice, her outburst had the opposite effect as intended. Lydia took another step towards her.

She imagined the girl's outstretched hand getting attacked by a violent alpha werewolf, red strands flashing in the air. "You don't understand," she said, switching her voice to a whisper.

"Then help us understand," Scott replied, as if it was that simple. He was hovering behind Lydia, a hand on her back and face resolutely calm. As the alpha, he would probably be the first one taken out. Everyone else would just be a casualty of getting to the leader.

"No, you can't understand. I can't tell you because…" She trailed off. She couldn't tell them because she wasn't sure herself. Nothing the past few years made sense in her mind. It had felt like she was floating through a fuzzy haze on auto pilot. It wasn't until she stepped foot in Beacon Hills that she had really begun to question anything. Her father always said that curiosity and questions led to people getting hurt. He was right. "It's too dangerous." She backed away another step.

Liam hadn't moved since Scott and Lydia entered the room, but with Lizzie's last sentence he began inching towards her. "I don't think you understand how this works. We are going to help you no matter what," he said, stopping a foot from her.

"No." They wouldn't help her no matter what. While she tried to keep the words bottled up inside, she couldn't stop from remembering everything that had happened.

Another scene flashed in her mind, this time not one from her nightmares. There was a growl and then the ripping of limbs as she tore apart one of her old pack members. A sob escaped her body at the memory. She had stood up from the dead werewolf and wiped her mouth clean of blood, turning to her alpha. He had smiled and walked away. Lizzie had followed, glancing back only once and that one time was enough to permanently burn the image into her brain forever. The sight of werewolves splayed out across the grass. Bodies in various levels of carnage. All dead.

Lizzie was sitting on the floor then, body wracking with the guilt and shame. Tears streamed down her cheeks as she looked up at Liam. "I don't deserve your help. I've done some horrible things." It was true. Death followed her around everywhere. First her mother and then her pack. Next were those standing in that very classroom trying to help.

A swirl of emotions passed over Liam's face as he sat down beside her on the ground. He crossed his legs and wrung his hands together, Lizzie staring at his moving fingers and trying to calm down. "You know," he started softly, "I did what you said." He placed his hands on each of his knees and looked her square in the face. "I asked Scott about bruises and cuts that didn't heal."

With a sharp intake of breath, Lizzie almost stood up right then and refuse to hear him out. Instead she just listened, not sure what was coming next. Scott and Lydia walked over and sat down too, keeping a larger gap between themselves and Lizzie, giving her space.

"I learned that when an alpha inflicts wounds, those take longer to heal than usual for a werewolf." He paused and Scott nodded, confirming what he'd said. "Lizzie…" Liam closed his eyes and rubbed his neck, obviously out of his element. "Is that what happened to you? Did an alpha do that to you?"

Tears began to form in Lizzie's eyes and she tried to brush them quickly away. She pulled on the sleeves of her turtleneck and avoided everyone's gaze. "Yes." Scott growled at her answer and she could his palpable anger brewing under the surface.

"Why?" he demanded.

At Lizzie's confused look, Lydia answered for her. "You said that you made some mistakes." Lizzie nodded. "Last night you said that it was your fault."

"Yes," she breathed out. "I didn't…" Lizzie almost let it slip that the reason she had been punished was because she hadn't told her father about the werewolf pack at school. "I lied to my alpha. I disobeyed." Even saying the words out loud, she didn't know how they would react. She partially expected understanding, being an alpha himself, but the look on Scott's face said otherwise.

"Tell me who it is," he said. Panicked, Lizzie shook her head. The alpha's face softened a bit and he said more gently, "They can't hurt you, I won't let them. Just tell me who it is and we'll take care of them."

A rising upsurge of panic swelled up inside Lizzie's chest. She went to get up, but Lydia and Liam each put a hand on her shoulder to hold her down. They weren't forceful, just firm. Still, Lizzie couldn't hold back the fear at Scott's words. In the beginning she had expected Scott to agree with her alpha and right then it sounded like he was planning to kill him. "You can't," she begged. "It's not his fault. It's mine. All mine. No. No. He's all I have left. Please… please don't."

Lydia shot a warning look to Scott. "He's not going to kill your alpha, right Scott?" When Scott shook his head Lydia turned back to the panicking werewolf. "See? It's just that what he's doing to you isn't right. That's not the way it's supposed to work. All you have to do is tell us who it is and we'll set him straight."

"I…" Lizzie's words caught in her throat.

"Dude! Where have you been?" a familiar voice interrupted, and they all turned towards the front of the classroom where Stiles and two girls were standing. Lizzie recognized them as the other members of Scott's pack – Malia and Kira. "You're missing class and you're already failing…" Stiles trailed off when he saw them all sitting around Lizzie.

Ignoring his best friend, Scott asked Lizzie, "Where is your alpha?"

"Not trying to interrupt again," Stiles said, interrupting, "But have tried going to her house and…" Before he was able to finish the sentence, Lizzie had sprang from the floor.

"Shut up or I'll rip your throat out," she growled, claws already extended. Lizzie hadn't intended to be quite so dramatic, but the words had just slipped out. Defending her alpha was instinctual. She did it without even thinking most of the time. At least her threat had scared Stiles enough so that he'd quit talking.

Then his girlfriend Malia intervened, stepping in front of Stiles. Although she didn't extend her claws, she did flash her blue eyes at Lizzie and bear her sharp teeth. "Back off."

"As long as he keeps his nose out of my business we don't have a problem," she rasped, retracting her claws and flicking a cold glare at Stiles. Apparently taking that as a further threat, Malia roared and shoved Lizzie onto the ground.

Lizzie decided at that point it was best not to fight back. She let her body go slack as Malia pinned her arms onto the floor.

"Now what were you saying about going to her house?" Malia asked, pushing down harder on Lizzie's arms in case she tried to get up again. Lizzie stilled completely, holding her breath as she waited for Stiles to answer. Noticing this, Malia loosened her grip slightly and stared into Lizzie's eyes, trying to find answers. When Lizzie looked away, Malia moved her legs to hold Lizzie's arms down instead and took the girl's face in her hands.

"Malia, stop…" Scott ordered her, but paused when Malia began leaned down to sniff Lizzie's neck. That was when Lizzie began to fight back, but Malia had already pulled down the tall collar of Lizzie's turtleneck. When the other girl saw the bruises and marks there, her eyes immediately changed back to their natural brown.

A second ago Lizzie wouldn't have thought it possible, but Malia's gaze softened as she sniffed out more of the bruises and claw marks, pushing up the sleeves on Lizzie's arms. As she uncovered more injuries and scars realization dawned on her features. "It was your alpha that did this… It's your father, isn't? At your house… Your father is the alpha." There was no question in her voice and the room went silent. No one spoke.

Then Malia was letting go of Lizzie's arms and helping her stand. As soon as she was up, Malia awkwardly folded her arms around the other werewolf. "I'm told that hugging is supposed to convey empathy." She paused. "Although I'm not sure I can fully understand what you must be feeling…" Malia stepped back out of the embrace, making Lizzie feel like the awkward one as Malia pulled back down the sleeves of Lizzie's turtleneck and adjusted the collar. She turned her head toward Stiles. "I volunteer to kill him."

Stiles's eyes widened and he reached over to pull his girlfriend away. "She was a coyote for a few years," he tried to explain to Lizzie. "It's progress."

* * *

**Ughndfjdkflj... It's been too long since I last posted. I had 3 exams and a big presentation due over the course of Thursday and Friday, so that's why I didn't get anything up. Also, I've just been feeling really sick so that didn't help either. I'm not feeling any better, but I knew I needed to get a new chapter up soon, so here it is. I want to continue to post daily, but this is just a warning that I may not be able to. With this being my last month before summer break, I'm going to be swamped with applications, exams, etc. **

**I hope you understand! And thanks for all of the comments in the meantime. Follow/Favorite and leave Feedback to let me know what you think!**


	16. Chapter 16

As soon as the words were out of Malia's mouth everyone began talking and making plans. Stiles decided that it would be okay if they skipped school for the rest of the day. Lydia agreed, reasoning that they weren't too far into the year yet and everything was still just review. Malia was only too happy to comply and offered up no objections. Only Scott and Kira hesitated, but after some nudging from Stiles were convinced into leaving too.

The only ones who didn't give any opinions on the matter were Lizzie and Liam. After Malia had made the big declaration to the group, Lizzie had gone numb. It wasn't shock really. Nothing traumatic had happened to her. But suddenly it felt like her life had just come crumbling down. She didn't know what she was supposed to feel to have all of these people wanting to help her. She didn't know how she was supposed to feel about how helping her meant going after her father.

The group dynamics seemed different with Scott McCall and his pack. As they pulled out their cellphones and chatted back and forth in the empty classroom, it seemed more like a joint effort among friends rather than an alpha and his subordinates. That wasn't how Lizzie was raised, and she felt uncomfortable with the shift. She wanted to go back to her house where she at the very least knew what to expect. Lizzie had been living that life for four years.

That's what no one seemed to understand as they began to make plans and jump into action. It was her life that they were trying to change. Already held together by only an invisible, loose thread, every suggestion they made seemed to make it unravel further and further until Lizzie didn't know what to think. She slouched down into a desk and clutched her hands over her ears, trying to filter them out.

She desperately wished to talk to her father.

Not the alpha, the unyielding wolf, but her father. The one who raised her alongside her mother. The one that she used to go to for answers.

Lizzie reminded herself bitterly that she hadn't seen that father in years. Those four years seemed so short right then and she suddenly realized why. All of that time, Lizzie hadn't really allowed herself to think about what had happened. It was only in her sleep that her mind touched the memories she kept out during the day. Even as images began to flash against her closed eyelids, she tried to ignore them.

She didn't know why she had suppressed all of those things, but she thought part of it had to do with her naive belief that things would go back to the way they were. It wasn't a conscious thought really; it hovered just out of sight, tangling by that thin thread and holding her anchored. Whenever she would miss her mother… miss her pack… miss the way her father used to be, she always found some small inkling of faith that everything would be okay. It had held her together all of that time, despite all the horrible things that had taken place.

When Malia promised to kill her father though, that string had finally split apart. She saw her life for what it was – hopeless. Those things that she wanted were never coming back. They had died four years ago and it was only right then that Lizzie began to feel the realness of it all. The grief overwhelmed her and she crouched further in the desk.

After a few minutes, she felt a hand press gently against her back, and when she raised her head, she saw everyone in the room had stopped speaking and were looking at her. Lizzie put on a neutral face and stood up, matching Liam's crossed arms who had moved from behind to her side.

Stiles hesitated only briefly before launching into instructions. Despite the ultimate goal, Lizzie appreciated having someone else tell her what to do right then. "Alright," Stiles said, rubbing his hands together. "I've got my Jeep and Lydia, did you drive to school today?" Lydia nodded. "Okay, good. There should be enough room for all of us."

"Where are we going?" Lizzie asked, voice still hoarse. Everyone looked around to each other trying to decide if they should tell her or if it would be better to keep her uninformed.

Liam put his hand on Lizzie's back again and started guiding her towards the door. "Come one guys, let's just go," he said, motioning to the rest to get moving. As they were walking through the halls, no one particularly concerned with being loud or getting caught, Liam leaned over to Lizzie and whispered, "I'll tell you where we're going on the way there."

Surprised, Lizzie glanced up into Liam's face. He didn't look back at her. The only indication that he had said anything was the hand still on her back, guiding her forward. It was the single thing keeping her going, propelling her forward when the rest of her body was telling her to just give up.

* * *

**I don't need to tell you that you guys are awesome. You should already know that. Still, I can't express how grateful I am for all of your wonderful comments! Halfcent, Female whovian, MTOBEIYF, Mackblair2001, AnimeHunter411... thank you thank you thank you!**

**In the next chapter, we will be getting a short introduction to Deaton (he will be in the next few I think). Also, coming up is the full story of what happened to Lizzie and her old pack. Be prepared! I'm excited to finally get to that part in the story, because I think it's kind of a turning point. (Another character will also be introduced, but just briefly). I can't wait to see what you all think.**

**In other Teen Wolf news - have you read about the new fan-made monster that has been created for Season 5? I think that's really cool that the show is getting input from fans, and it's a big part of why the series is so successful. **

**As always, let me know what you think! Feedback, follows and favorites are welcome.**


	17. Chapter 17

"I'll ride with Lizzie," Malia announced as they reached the school parking lot. Turning to Lizzie, she broke into a smile that was probably supposed to be friendly, but was really more frightening than anything. If Lizzie hadn't been so out of it, she would have tried to figure out what was going on with the girl. While she seemed at first to just be a regular werewolf, there was something slightly different about her movements. It was subtle – an awkward hand movement, a tilt of the head. They seemed animalistic, not quite human, almost as if Malia was werewolf first, a person second, and hadn't adjusted to her new body yet.

Lydia shook her head. "No. Lizzie's riding with me, and need I remind anyone what happened the last time Malia was in my car?" From the confused look on Malia's face, apparently she did need to be reminded. From Stile's grimace though, he seemed to remember what had happened perfectly well, and after an insulted huff from Malia, ushered her to his Jeep. Scott and Kira piled in next, leaving Liam to look back and forth between the two vehicles before Lydia spoke up with no room for debate "Liam, you're with us."

"So," Liam started, as they pulled out of the Beacon Hills parking lot and onto the main road, "you wanted to know where we were going." He gestured out the backseat windows where the two were sitting. "We, uh, mentioned him yesterday. Deaton. He's the local veterinarian."

"And the local go-to-guy for all things supernatural," Lydia supplied helpfully. "To be honest," she said, turning on her blinker and making a right hand turn, "we feel a little out of our depth on how to handle this. We've dealt with alphas before, actually an entire alpha pack before."

There had been rumors of an alpha pack travelling around, but they had never made it to the coast. With Lydia's revelation, that explained why. "Did you kill them all?" she asked, surprised at how small and weak her voice sounded. She cleared her throat and spoke louder, scratchy, but stronger, "Did you kill the alpha pack?"

"Well, see, that's the thing," Lydia replied, tilting her head to the side. "Yes, some of them we did kill." Lizzie sucked in a breath which Lydia must have heard, because she looked quickly in the rearview mirror. "But not all of them! Some actually joined our pack for a while. They were… they were our friends." Lydia's voice had taken on a wistful tone and Lizzie waited, not wanting to break into whatever memories were flooding the other girl's mind. She knew the feeling. "Anyways, we know how to deal with alphas. However, with the alpha pack, while we didn't want to have to kill them, we didn't have to worry if we did. None of them were innocent."

Lydia was obviously implying that Lizzie was the outlying factor in the situation. The piece that they didn't know how to handle. "I'm not innocent." She knew they had seen her blue werewolf eyes.

"Never said you were," Liam smirked, and the action sent a tremor through Lizzie's body. He didn't know that the she had gotten her blue eyes from murdering one of her pack members in cold blood. If he did, he wouldn't be sitting there smirking at her as if she wasn't a threat. Lizzie didn't respond, and Liam's smirk dropped as the car slowed to a stop. Already the other four had unloaded out of the Jeep and were walking into a brick building. "Come on," he said, ushering her out of the car.

They followed everyone else in, Lizzie pausing briefly to read the words stenciled on the front door that did in fact say "Beacon Hills Animal Clinic." A sign was turned to "Open" in the glass, and as they stepped inside, Lizzie had no idea what to expect.

Seeming as if they visited frequently, the pack walked straight through the reception area and towards the back. When Lizzie entered what looked to be a large examination room, she was greeted by a dark-skinned, bald man, dressed in a white lab coat. "You must be Lizzie," he said.

"And you must be Deaton," Lizzie replied back. Deaton eye's narrowed at the sound of her hoarse voice, and even though werewolves were natural born lie detectors, something told her that the vet could see directly through her as well. Not that she had told him any lies yet, but all the same, the mistrust in his eyes showed that he knew she was hiding something.

"And I'm Stiles," Stiles interrupted sarcastically. "Look, can we just skip the introductions and get a move on to your stuff?"

"Stuff?" Deaton asked raising his eyebrows, clearly amused.

Stiles fumbled for a second, gesturing wildly in the air. "You know… whatever it is that you do. Can we get on with it? Because I for one am not comfortable with having a potentially threatening alpha in our territory. Regardless of how many times it's happened in the past – that's just not something that I will ever get used to."

"Out," Deaton demanded. It wasn't in anger or annoyance, just a clear order. One with power. While Deaton clearly wasn't a werewolf, he obviously wasn't an ordinary vet either.

"You're an emissary," Lizzie breathed out, taking a step back. Deaton looked slightly surprised at the statement, but didn't deny it, instead looking to the alpha in the room.

"Scott, if you're wanting me to do my… stuff," Deaton said, attention shifting for a second to Stiles with a smirk, "Then I'm going to need you all to go outside so Lizzie and I can talk." Scott hesitated before acquiescing, herding the protesting group back out the way they came. After a strong argument from Lydia, Deaton allowed her to stay. Liam and Scott were the last two out of the room, and before they disappeared down the hallway, Deaton told them to wait. The two werewolves stopped and turned back to Deaton in confusion as he walked over.

Deaton stood in front of Liam, staring into his eyes for a moment, before looking back over to Lizzie. Eventually he nodded his head, seeming pleased to have confirmed some secret suspicion. "Liam will stay too." With a weary look to Scott who nodded the okay, Liam walked back into the room and went to stand beside Lydia.

"I'll be outside if you need anything," Scott told them, before joining the others.

* * *

**Another update! Thank you to Female whovian, Dcutie and Guest for their comments. I'm glad everyone is still enjoying the story. That's a big concern of mine... that one day everyone will just decide to stop reading. But today is not that day thankfully! And thanks to AnimeHunter411**** as well - **Just you wait! There will be some awesome and intense interaction between Liam and Lizzie shortly. I also just wrote chapters 24 and 25 which are much milder and there is some fluffier/less tense interaction that I personally think is adorable.

**The next chapter will be twice as long and everything will come out about Lizzie's past. We'll find out what happened and there's a lot of dialogue on Lizzie's part. I've got some major revising to do before I post it, because I want everything to be perfect with this big reveal. I may post it Saturday or Sunday night, but just know that it's already written and coming soon!**

**Feedback/Follows/Favorites are welcome. Let me know what you think!**


	18. Chapter 18

That was how Lizzie found herself in a veterinarian clinic with an emissary, a werewolf, and a girl whom she still didn't fully understand. She should have been afraid or defensive. Instead, when Deaton patted the metal examination table, Lizzie hopped up without protest.

While she wasn't afraid though, she was certainly nervous, swinging her legs back and forth and tapping her fingers against the table's edge in an unsteady rhythm. Deaton kept his distance, pulling up a fold-up chair and sitting a few feet away. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, and clasped his hands together as if they were just having a casual chat. The mistrust still remained in his eyes, and for some reason that made Lizzie feel calmer. Liam and Lydia, along with everyone else, had trusted her far too quickly. Deaton was in the right; she shouldn't be trusted.

"Scott told me that you're from San Francisco. City or suburbs?" Deaton asked.

Lizzie looked down at the down at the ground, continuing to swing her legs. "City."

"So that would have made you part of Adam's pack?" he prodded.

Lizzie paused mid-swing, struck down by the question. There it was. Deaton wasn't playing games. Lizzie could sense his real intentions under the surface of the question. He knew, at least in part, what had happened with her pack. "Yes."

When Deaton sighed, Lizzie looked up, surprised to see a sadness lingering on the vet's face. "I was so sorry to hear about what happened. I'd met a few of the members and they were truly wonderful people." Lizzie felt something catch in her throat and she hastily glanced away. With shaking limbs, she drew her legs up on the hard metal table and pulled them to her chest.

She thought about Aaron and Joseph, Kevin and Marissa, Leah and Henry. Trying to keep a steady voice, she pressed her forehead against her knees and whispered, "They were." She hadn't thought about them in so long. Since that night four years ago.

"I actually didn't know if any of the pack was left. You seemed to have almost dropped off the map there for quite some time." Deaton tried to sound nonchalant, as if he was just joking. They had disappeared though. And left catastrophe in their wake. "Almost four years wasn't it?" Lizzie mumbled a yes, face still buried in her legs, not caring if Deaton could hear her or not. "And right before that someone else took over as alpha?" More hidden implications. What he really meant was that someone killed Adam in a violent fight to become leader of the pack. Deaton didn't wait for an answer before continuing on, skipping over several questions and going right for the punch. "I was so sorry to hear about your mother Lizzie. She was one of the pack members that I had the great fortune to meet."

A sob that Lizzie didn't know she was holding in escaped her lips. She pressed her mouth further into her legs to muffle the sound. Lizzie felt Lydia and Liam take a few steps closer, but they stopped when Deaton held up a hand.

"There is a lot of conflicting stories on what exactly happened that night Lizzie. They're all just hearsay though. Speculation. I need you to tell me what really happened," Deaton said. Lizzie shook her head. She couldn't. "Lizzie," Deaton pressed, voice growing softer, "I can't help you if I don't know the truth. And you want this to be over, right?"

Lizzie muttered yes. She hadn't realized how painful dredging up all of those names would be, even more so than the nightmares. But she did want it to be over. Before when she still believed that things could go back to normal, she wouldn't have agreed. That was Lizzie a day ago. Lizzie right then was finally mourning her fallen pack members, overwhelmed by the truth of what happened. She needed to release it, otherwise it would consume her.

They all waited while Lizzie collected herself to tell the story. She knew it would be a long time before she stopped crying though, and pushed on anyways. Slowly she lowered her knees into a cross-legged position, her knees stained from fallen tears. Not allowing herself to think about it for another second, worried that she would talker herself out of it, Lizzie began to speak.

"My mother was killed during a routine scouting of another pack. Adam had sent out a few pack members to investigate a pack towards the North that had issued a few threats. We didn't think they were serious, just upset over boundary disagreements. Apparently they were... serious, that is. The scouts were attacked and my mother was killed by someone from the other pack." Lizzie cleared her throat, trying to reel in the tears that were still falling.

"When they came back, my father blamed the other pack members for her death. He argued that they needed to be punished. He said it was their fault that she was dead, not watching each other's backs." Lizzie remembered the arguments vaguely. She had been in a state of disbelief when she'd found out her mother was dead. It hadn't seemed real. "They were mates, you know? It's not a very common thing, so I'm not sure I completely understand, but he really loved her…"

For the first time since Lizzie had started her story, Deaton spoke up. "When a werewolf mates, they mate for life. You're right – it's not very common, but not unheard of either. The bond between mates is incredibly strong. When a werewolf's mate dies, it's like a part of them dies too. It's devastating. Something that most of us can't even imagine." Lizzie nodded at the explanation. His description of mates made sense with what happened after.

"Deaton?" Lydia spoke up, voice sounding strained. "Is it kind of like being an tether?" Deaton pondered for a moment and when he agreed that it was a fair comparison, something in Lydia shifted. It was as though pieces were clicking into place as she closed her eyes in a painful grimace. "That must have been terrible for your father," Lydia said, sounding genuinely sympathetic, and almost like she spoke from experience.

"Yes, he…" Lizzie went to continue, but found that she couldn't get the words out. If she told them, she was crossing a bridge that she could never get back over. By telling them, she was burning whatever lingering hope she still held onto about her father.

Liam said something then, and Lizzie didn't quite catch it, too wrapped up in her own thoughts. When she looked to him, he repeated himself, "Maybe try closing your eyes. It may help you get the words out."

Lizzie didn't even question him, immediately shutting her eyes. At once she felt the words start to flow out, narrating the scenes that were spilling across her vision. "My father went… well, he went crazy when my mother died. He had always been Adam's right-hand man and most trusted pack member, but when Adam refused to punish the pack members, that friendship broke down. I think a lot of the pack tried to ignore what was happening, giving my father time to grieve and get over it." Lizzie flinched, seeing her father change before her eyes, growing violent and prone to outbursts that always ended with destruction in his wake.

"I didn't really understand what was going on. I think Adam did though. He told me that if I ever needed an escape, that I could come to him. Again, I didn't know what he meant, but I trusted Adam. He was my alpha after all." Adam's face appeared in Lizzie's mind. He was smiling and he was wearing his usual flannel shirt and jeans. As always, he was barefoot, and they were running through the grass. Together they had discovered a patch of wild flowers, and Adam had helped Lizzie collect some and put them in a vase for her mother when she was still alive. That was the last happy memory she had of him.

"And then one day my father hit me. I'm still not sure if it was intentional or not. I probably was just in the way. I told Adam though, and I could tell that that's what he had been afraid of. Almost as if he had been waiting for it to happen. Everything after that was a blur. Adam confronted my father, and they got into an argument. I don't know for how long, and then, all of the sudden, my father was challenging Adam as alpha. He killed him... As alpha, Adam should have been stronger, but my father - I think he was running on pure anger and grief." The whole pack had been too shocked to do much of anything, and Lizzie had stood there with a clear, unobstructed view as her father had murdered the man who had been like her uncle.

"After that, my father became alpha. For a few days, nothing happened. I think some hoped that after killing Adam, my father would feel like my mother's death was avenged. A few probably realized that he wasn't in his right mind, and that he never would be again."

"Then, late one night, without warning, my father attacked the pack while they were sleeping. It was a coward's move, but he was desperate. I don't think he planned very far in advance. Wait, maybe he did. There was another pack member who helped him – one of the few who had agreed with him in wanting to punish the scouts over mother's death. Anyways, it was all so quick. And before long the two of them had wiped out almost the entire pack. But there were still two left." Lizzie hadn't slept since Adam had died. She had felt like she was living in some strange dream. Her alpha was gone, and in his place was her father. But her father wasn't really her father. When she had heard the fighting, she'd dashed outside. "I don't know why I didn't run right then. I think I was frozen to the spot. Here were people that I considered family trying to kill each other. There was my father with blood-soaked hands and crazy eyes, glowing red. So much red…" Lizzie shuddered, not wanting to say what came next. Her eyes shot open. "Please," she choked out, "I can't do this anymore."

Lydia looked shocked, and had moved into a sitting position on the floor, tears streaming down her face. Deaton seemed at a loss for words as well. He probably had guessed part of Lizzie's story, but there was no way he was prepared for all of that had come out. It was Liam who reacted first. It always seemed to be Liam.

He approached Lizzie and sat down on the table beside her. Lizzie kept her eyes trained on the floor as she told him, "I can't do it. It's… it's terrible."

"I think," Liam said slowly, "that you'll feel better if you get it all out."

Lizzie shook her head in a wild panic. "No! What I did… it's unforgivable. I'm a monster. I…"

Liam's hands shot out and cupped Lizzie's face, bringing it up to meet his. He looked her straight in the eye and said, "It doesn't matter what you did. You are not a monster."

She closed her eyes again, shaking her head away. No one stopped her as she slipped off the table and left the room. When she was back outside, she sensed rather than saw the others, and that alone was what kept her from trying to leave the property of the clinic. Instead, she circled around the building to the other side. She didn't sit down, instead just standing and trying not to think much of anything.

When a pair of footsteps approached from behind, gravel crunching under foot, she knew who it was. They stopped before reaching her and waited. Lizzie squinted out at the trees surrounding a part of the property. She thought about walking into them and never coming back. The trees wouldn't force her to do things she didn't want to do, make her say things she didn't want to say. More importantly though, they wouldn't be hate her for what she'd done.

"You don't know me," she whispered to the boy behind her, still not turning around. As the wind picked up, blowing her hair around, she thought that maybe her words had been lost to it and he hadn't heard them.

But then Liam spoke. "Whatever you say won't change my mind. I may not know all of you, but I know that when I do, you'll still not be a monster to me." His voice sounded so determined and resolute, like he really believed what he was saying. Lizzie knew better though – that if she told him what she had done, he wouldn't be able to look at her without seeing the horrible thing she truly was.

A part of her told her to tell him. That no matter what happened afterwards, at least it would be because of the truth and not a pile of lies.

She started, voice barely above a whisper. "The remaining pack members rounded on my father and his friend, catching them by surprise. They were going to kill him, and then it was all going to be over. But then my father called to me." Lizzie tilted her head, the words sounding wrong.

"My alpha called to me." Lizzie hadn't listened because the man was her father, but because he was her alpha. She didn't know if it really mattered either way when the end result was the same.

"The pack hadn't been paying attention to me. I was just a child after all. Not a threat in their minds probably, but they were wrong. So wrong." Lizzie's lips twisted bitterly into a smile at the thought, and she was glad that Liam couldn't see her face. "When they had their backs turned to me, preparing to attack, I leapt onto the one… Marissa… I leapt onto Marissa's back and killed her." Before Lizzie knew what she was doing, she had mimed the movement, feeling the werewolf's neck snap in her hands. It wasn't just enough to break their necks though. She had had to tear it completely off.

Lizzie held up her hands in the air, remembering the fresh blood that had coated them. Marissa's blood. She saw the decapitated head in her hands right before she threw it into a pile with the rest.

A wave of nausea washed over her suddenly, and she lunged forward, rushing to the trees. Nothing came out though as she dry heaved over the ground. Everything had already left her body. She had nothing left to tell. She was empty.

* * *

**So this definitely was the most serious chapter of the story so far. Like I said before, the flashback revealing what happened was just a matter of time. I hope I did it justice and none of you were disappointed! I tried to not draw it out and intersperse memories from Lizzie, and dialogue from other characters. **

**The next chapter will be a little serious as well, but not nearly so depressing. And then soon we will be introduced to Derek!**

**Halfcent- I'm still trying to decide how much aid Deaton is going to give to them in the story. He seems like he is more of the catalyst/informer for things, but he always lets the pack figure out things on their own. And I completely agree with you about "bad guys." No matter how evil they are, they aren't completely bad. I think the backstory for Lizzie's father shows that.**

**This is a Creative Name\- I love Lizzie and Liam together too! I'm hoping that Liam gets a good love interest during the next season. He definitely deserves one. Malia is such a conflicting character for me. I don't dislike her really, but I get how a lot of fans want her gone (she's standing between Stiles and Lydia after all...). She has a lot of great one-liners though, which was seriously lacking when Isaac left!**

**MTOBEIYF\- Thank you! I hope you enjoy the update. Sorry it took so long!**

**Wisegirlismyseaweedbrain\- THANKS! I'm glad to hear it.**

**Hurricane.'97\- I'm so happy to hear that you like Lizzie! Interesting thought about Lizzie becoming an alpha. I've been trying to decide what her fate will be at the end.**

**AnimeHunter411****\- So Lizzie didn't hold herself together quite as well in this chapter, but I think that's understandable. She's still going to struggle with that in future updates too, but like I said to someone else before - if I was in her place, I wouldn't be able to even function! And I just wrote two cute scenes between Lizzie and Liam in a few chapters, so I think you have something to look forward to with that!**

**Guest\- Thanks! I love some of Malia's lines in the show when she is still adjusting to being human. They are so funny.**

**Sorry if I missed anyone's comments. Sometimes it's hard to remember who I have already replied to! Your support through this story is overwhelming and I am so glad that you all are liking Lizzie so much. Original Characters are a mixed bag and I'm happy the reception of this one in particular is so positive!**

**As always - let me know what you think with feedback!**


	19. Chapter 19

Lizzie had been right. Afterwards when she turned around, Liam had walked away. He hadn't gone back inside, but he was standing closer to the building than before. Lizzie's stomach clenched into a knot as she sat down on the ground. Everything she had predicted had come true. He finally saw her for what she was.

A loud slam ripped Lizzie from her thoughts. Across the lot, Liam stood with his back turned and shoulders hunched. He was so still that Lizzie thought she had imagined the sound altogether. But then it came again as she watched Liam slam his fists into the side of a metal dumpster. A frustrated growl accompanied the slam that time.

Lizzie pressed her back up against one of the trees and folded her legs underneath her. She stared at the ground, then at the back of Liam's head, then at the ground again. "I'm sorry." Another slam. "I'm so so sorry," she said. Lizzie didn't really know who she was apologizing to. Her mother for being a horrible daughter? Marissa for betraying her trust? Or Liam for not being the person that he thought, no – expected, her to be?

Liam turned around, and she could tell that he was trying to keep his werewolf in check. His fists were clenched and his eyes were closed. If they were open, they probably would have been glowing yellow and not their natural blue. "Don't say that," he said, voice tight, having overheard her weak apology even at a distance.

"You're right," Lizzie said, sinking her head into her hands. "Nothing I say can change what I did." She pressed her hands against her forehead, shuddering. Images from that night were still impressed upon her mind. When she had started to recall them, it was like a dam had broken and all the memories rushed out at once. They were flooding her senses, making it hard to breathe. It was like she was drowning on dry land.

Liam didn't respond. He just walked away and went through the back door of the clinic. Lizzie contemplated not going inside again, but she knew that she really didn't have a choice as she followed him in.

The examination room was empty when they entered. Lizzie went to one of the chairs on the farthest wall and sat down. Liam stood by the shelves and medical cabinets, hands still in fists.

Right then, Deaton and Lydia chose to return, accompanied by Scott. They looked back and forth between Lizzie and Liam at opposite sides of the room, neither one in the best shape. Lizzie watched Scott carefully.

She knew that he had probably overhead everything- her confession of killing Marissa. He didn't say anything though, just walked over to Liam and put a hand on his shoulder. Then Scott turned to the shelves and began pulling off medical supplies.

Lizzie stood, watching to make sure Scott wasn't going to try anything on her. Most packs elected to put down any werewolves who killed another pack member. They figured it was better than letting a rabid wolf leave and potentially hurt someone else. And if they didn't do it, the hunters probably would. There wasn't ever a problem when Adam was alpha, but she knew next to nothing about how Scott McCall ran his pack.

Deaton turned to her, "Why don't you get back on the table so we can take a look at your injuries... Lydia said some of them weren't healing very well." Lizzie nodded but didn't move, waiting for Scott to turn so she could see what was in his hands. Sensing her hesitation, Deaton told Scott that he had gathered enough, and when he was facing them, Lizzie was relieved to see just antiseptic and bandages in his hands. No needles or weapons. She sent a grateful nod to Deaton before walking back over to the metal table.

Liam still hadn't moved, but his hands were no longer clenched and his eyes were open, blue with no traces of yellow. He stood there watching, face expressionless, which made Lizzie nervous.

"Lydia, can you help me?" Lizzie asked numbly, motioning to her shirt.

"Sure," the redhead said quietly, and when she approached Lizzie could see her eyes were still puffy and red from earlier. The thought made Lizzie want to start crying all over again so she averted her gaze as Lydia helped Lizzie pull off the turtleneck. Thankfully that morning she had had the good sense to wear another camisole underneath. She couldn't believe the previous night where she had basically stripped off all of her clothes in front of these strangers. At the time she was too out of it to think much of it, but now when she was much more clear-headed she cringed at her previous nonchalance.

"Thanks," she said when they had finally gotten the thing off and Lydia went went back to stand on the other side of Scott.

Then Lizzie bent over and began rolling up her wide-legged pants. "There's not any cuts on my thighs or anything, just a few scars." She looked to Liam for back-up and when he nodded, she could see from the distant look in his face that he was thinking about how he had removed some of the bloody bandages from her leg.

His jaw was locked into a tight frown. Then he said to Deaton, "She has a bruise on her stomach. You might want to take a look at that as well."

"I was going to tell him," Lizzie muttered.

Liam didn't look convinced. "Right, because you are so forthcoming with information." The words were like a slap to the face and Lizzie visibly recoiled. She had told them more than she had ever intended.

"Liam, you don't have to be here. I understand that you're angry with me. This will all be over soon though and I'll be gone. I promise." She had meant to be reassuring, but from the look it got her, she hadn't hit the mark.

Liam's frown deepened. "What are you talking about? I'm not angry with you."

Lizzie sighed. "I'm a liability, a threat to the pack. I know that." She redirected her gaze at the ceiling. "Really, I promise that I'm not expecting things to be the same. You didn't believe me, but you now see that I was right, don't you?"

In response, a hand came slamming down on the edge of the table. Lizzie flinched, anticipating what was coming. She had been in the situation so many times before with her father. Too late she realized she shouldn't have said anything, just obeyed orders and kept quiet.

"Liam!" Lydia shouted in alarm from the other side of Scott.

"It's fine Lydia," Lizzie said, defending Liam. "I understand."

"Lizzie, look at me." It was Liam, sounding like he was trying to keep his voice in check. Lizzie risked a glance over. Nothing happened. Liam didn't look like he was angry with her. Yes, he looked angry, furious even, but not directed at Lizzie. "I told you that nothing you said would change my mind. And I meant it. You're not a monster…" His eyes flashed yellow and Scott edged in closer. Liam gritted his teeth, trying to fight for control, "I'm not mad at you. I don't hate you. How could you possibly think that? You didn't do anything wrong."

His pulse was steady and he was telling the truth, but Lizzie still didn't understand. She had murdered her pack member, had watched as she had let her pack get ripped to pieces while doing nothing to stop it. Liam had every reason to hate her.

"You were just following your alpha's orders. No one can fault you for that," Liam continued, looking a little calmer. "It's him that I'm angry at, that we're all angry at you. Not you... your alpha."

Lizzie opened her mouth to speak, but no words came out. Suddenly aware at everyone waiting for her reaction, she looked back towards the ceiling. "Oh," was all she said, voice cracking on the word and her eyes growing hot with tears. She tried to wipe them away, but she that just brought on more.

"Great job Liam," Lydia snapped, pushing her way past the boys, and pulling Lizzie in for a hug. Lizzie hugged her back, finally letting herself finally find comfort in the act. When she pulled away, she looked over to Liam, who was looking incredibly uncomfortable about what just happened. When he crossed his arms in his usual fashion, Lizzie let out a barking laugh.

Liam raised his eyebrows at her, not understanding what she had found so funny. In response, she mimicked him crossing his arms before breaking out into a smile. Embarrassed, Liam quickly uncrossed his arms and pinned them to his sides. That caused Lizzie's smile to grow even wider until Liam was laughing and smiling back.

With a cough, Scott interrupted the laughing, "Er, sorry, I'm glad everyone's happy again, but we really do need to finish so that we can figure out our next move."

"Right," Deaton agreed, and Lizzie swung her legs up to lay down on the table. With the flip of a switch, the light above her flickered on, brightening the room. Everyone's smile dropped as they looked down at Lizzie's body. The room wasn't particularly well lit before, and with the lights on the full extent of her injuries were visible

Scott, who had only been told about the bruises and cuts, but hadn't seem them himself, looked like he wanted to punch something. Lizzie imagined it was her father and she couldn't deny that the thought made her a little pleased.

* * *

**Who else can't wait for it to be summer? School is so crazy right now. I have project after project to do (change management... accounting information systems... tax article summaries...). Not to mention final exams! _Ain't no rest for the wicked_, right?**

**NOT that I'm wicked at all, but _money definitely does not grow on trees_ and college is kind of key in me getting a job... (if you don't understand my song references, I encourage you to look up the lyrics from Cage the Elephant - it's awesome).**

**And if that random train of thought didn't clue you in, I've been kind of out of it for awhile, being swamped with school and everything. I apologize for the delay in posting. I'm so glad you all liked my most recent chapter though, and I hope you enjoy this one as well!**

**You know the drill - Follow/Favorite/Feedback to let me know what you think!**


	20. Chapter 20

Deaton pulled on his professional face and began examining first the bruise on Lizzie's abdomen. It looked a lot better than the day before, but when Deaton pressed down on it, Lizzie still winced in pain. "Well, you broke a few ribs, but they are healing as expected."

Lizzie exhaled as Deaton pressed down on the bruise again, this time more gently. "Yeah, that's what I figured. Last time there was a lot more bruising, almost a dark red, you know?" Deaton removed his hands and moved onto looking at Lizzie's arms. "I had to miss school for a few days following that," she added as an afterthought.

"And how long did it take to fully heal before?" he asked, pausing to hold out a hand to Scott for some kind of cream.

"Um," Lizzie started, thinking back. "I'm not sure, that was a while ago. Maybe two weeks? But like I said, I was younger then – not quite as strong and I didn't heal as fast." She glanced over at Liam who looked like he was going to be sick. "Ah, cheer up. I'm sure you've broken a few bones before, haven't you?" she joked, trying to lighten the mood.

"This isn't funny," Liam said, pinning her with a serious glare. "Most of my injuries have been by accident, not inflicted on me by my father." He ran a hand down the side of his face. "You're talking about this like it's normal. Like it's normal for you to know exactly how long it takes to heal broken ribs or claw marks or bruises from an alpha."

That put Lizzie in a silent stupor. He was right of course. Obviously she'd thought about how different her life was from her classmates being a werewolf, but it really never went much further than that. To her it was just normal.

Lizzie reached over to grab Liam's hand to calm him down. "Sorry, I've never talked about it out loud before so I never considered how it would sound." Liam looked down at their interlocking hands and his expression relaxed. "I'll try to put a filter on. I'm just not used to being able to say whatever I want out loud."

"You couldn't or didn't talk about it out loud?" Deaton probed. "Is something different now?"

The vet's question set Lizzie back. Things did feel different now that she thought about it. "Couldn't," she answered, frowning. "I guess I never realized it, but I've always felt like something was holding me back. Before I moved here the idea never even crossed my mind to tell someone. Now though, it feels different. Like for the first time I have a choice and no one's telling me what I can't do."

Deaton nodded his head as if that made perfect sense. "When you're part of a pack, everyone is connected in some way. It's kind of intangible. I've been told that sometimes you can feel it. Some alphas use the connection more than others to control their pack. It sounds like that might have been what was happening to you."

Scott jumped in at that point. "The connection probably is stronger for an alpha, but it's almost like I can feel an invisible rope between everyone in my pack, tying us all together. It let's me know everyone is okay."

"For me it feels like a thread," Liam added.

Lizzie felt her mouth go dry. "A thread?" she repeated, just to make sure she'd heard him right.

"Yeah, why?"

She knew what had happened. Why things were suddenly so clear. The knowledge swept over her and she shivered. It couldn't be true.

Lizzie scrambled to get up, but Scott and Deaton pushed her back down. Not roughly, but enough that she couldn't move. "I know it's a lot to take in right now, but I promise you that it will be okay," Scott said, voice calm.

"How long have you realized it?" Lizzie demanded, feeling like her chest was going to cave in. She took deep gasps of air in, but they were growing shorter and shorter as she began to panic. Scott looked hesitantly at Deaton. "How long have you known?" Lizzie yelled.

Scott sighed, giving in and gave Lizzie an apologetic grimace. "I knew when we were in the classroom. After Malia offered to kill your father… I don't know, whatever it was, something just shifted." Lizzie sucked in a breath. "I'd never felt anything like it before, but somehow I knew what it meant. You didn't feel like the beta of a pack anymore. You didn't feel like you belonged to any pack anymore. You felt like an omega."

* * *

**Oh dear... has it really been over a month since I last updated this?!**

**First it was those darn exams at school, and having to move everything out of my apartment basically by myself. Then, the longer I went without updating, the more I was reading of other people's stories (fanfiction and otherwise), and the thought of jumping back in was kind of overwhelming. It still is to be honest. Reading other stories makes me think too much about my own writing. I suppose it's good for growth and all that, but mostly it just messes with my head. I'm sure a lot of you know where I'm coming from. Still, I'm back, and I have a few chapters written in advance that I can edit and post soon. Then I have to take one step further and work on new chapters. I will finish this story though, sooner or later.**

**Thank you to everyone who has read You Don't Know Me so far. I'm incredibly grateful for the feedback and support. Please let me know what you think by reviewing, favoriting, and following!**


	21. Chapter 21

Except for the sound of Lizzie's sporadic breathing, the room was silent.

"How is that even possible?" Overwhelmed would be a vast understatement to explain how the girl felt right then. Instantly all of her lessons about pack dynamics from when she was a child came rushing back to her.

Omegas are the weakest of all werewolves. Being considered beneath alphas and betas, they aren't able to draw from the strength of a pack and are more vulnerable to attack.

Lizzie remembered thinking during those lessons how she would rather die than become an omega. It was lonely and without a pack some omega went crazy. The death rate for them was astronomically high.

"Hey, hey," Liam said, pulling her back from her thoughts. "We're going to get through this okay?" He breathed in slowly through his nose and then breathed out through his mouth. Lizzie found herself automatically matching his inhales and exhales, fighting the panic threatening to overwhelm her. She realized that she was still holding his hand and went to pull it back, but Liam held on and leaned his head down beside hers on the table. He gave her hand a gentle squeeze and smiled. "I'm sure you've been through worse, right?"

Despite everything else, Lizzie found herself laughing. "Yeah, I suppose I have." She stopped herself from elaborating though, because she suspected from Liam's previous that he really didn't need to hear about her 'worse' right then.

Finally her breathing evened out and she felt herself relax back onto the table.

A hand squeezed her bare shoulder and she looked to her left to see Lydia standing there. "Are you alright?"

"No, but I will be," Lizzie replied, copying Lydia's words from the first week of school. Recognition flashed in the other girl's eyes and a knowing smile crept onto her face.

"Hey, you could always join my pack if you wanted," Scott butted in, and just like that Lydia's panic was back.

"Excuse Scott over there. He and Stiles both need to work on keeping their mouths shut." The voice that spoke was unfamiliar, and as Lizzie sat up on the examination table, everyone else's heads turned towards the door.

"Derek?" Scott questioned, looking confused, just as Stiles rushed in behind the man.

"Sorry dude," Stiles panted, sounding as if he had just run a mile. "I tried to get him to wait, but you know..." Lizzie definitely knew what he meant as Stiles gestured to the six foot, brooding guy. From the second she saw him Lizzie knew that he was a werewolf. An alpha. What she didn't know was why Scott McCall wasn't freaking out and attacking him.

It was obvious that this Derek was unannounced and invading Scott's territory. Derek didn't look worried in the slightest though. "Deaton," he said, acknowledging the vet with a small nod, and then his gaze roamed over to Lizzie. "Aren't you going to introduce us Scott?" Derek asked, raising his scruffy eyebrows.

The way that Scott paused and looked over at Lizzie, the answer would be no, he really didn't want to introduce them.

Then, from behind Derek and Stiles appeared Malia and Kira. Kira ducked her head shyly and walked over to Scott. When Kira slipped her hand into Scott's, he seemed to find strength from her touch and use his free hand to gesture. "Derek, this is Lizzie. She's new at school. And Lizzie, this is Derek. Derek Hale." Scott frowned as he tried to describe their connection. "Uh… he lives in Beacon Hills too. His uncle Peter is the one that turned me, and Derek taught me how to be a werewolf."

Lizzie felt everyone, including Deaton who she thought could never be phased, tense up at the mention of Peter's name, but Lizzie ignored it, instead focusing on something else that Scott mentioned. "Wait," she said, snapping everyone out of the edgy silence that they had lapsed into, "You live on the same territory as Scott?" Despite how uncomfortable she was, her curiosity won out. "That's pretty unusual for werewolves. Usually packs don't share land."

"See!" Stiles interjected, before anyone could answer. "That's why we need to keep her around! This is the kind of stuff that Derek never tells us!"

Derek did not seem the slightest bit put off by Stiles's accusation. "Well what pack are _you_ a part of?" he asked Lizzie. Quickly, she shut her mouth, seeing what she had done.

Deaton decided to answer for her, and Lizzie didn't know whether she should be grateful or not. "She was part of the pack in San Francisco."

At the vet's answer, Derek's eyes flashed red. "And what is she doing in Beacon Hills?!" It was obvious that, unlike Scott who still appeared new to the whole werewolf thing, Derek was much more knowledgeable and had probably heard all the rumors about what had happened.

"And did you say 'was'?" Stiles interjected, picking up on Deaton's use of the past tense in reference to her old pack.

Lizzie fidgeted on the table, wishing that she were anywhere else but in that room. Leaning over, Liam whispered in her ear, "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, why?" she asked, as the others around her explained to Derek what was going on. Liam's eyes drifted down to his left hand, which Lizzie was still holding in a vice grip. She quickly let go and wiped her sweaty palms on her thighs. "Sorry." Derek was looking at Lizzie strangely as Scott was explaining something, and finally Lizzie just couldn't take it anymore. She tried to subtly slip off the table, but of course everyone noticed. They didn't quit talking however, so Lizzie worked on unrolling her pant legs. She realized quickly that if she lifted her leg instead of bending down, it didn't hurt her stomach as much.

Liam watched her balance precariously for a minute before rolling his eyes and helping her. "So stubborn," he muttered, and as he finished unrolling her pants, Lizzie looked around for her turtleneck. As soon as they were finished talking, she wanted to get out of there. She was slowly becoming used to being in the room with the pack, but when there were two alphas, she just couldn't take all of that power and energy in such a small space.

"Wait a minute," Derek said, just as Lizzie was about to pull on her turtleneck. She reminded herself that he wasn't her father, but she couldn't help the small terror that rose up inside her at the alpha's voice. With bated breath, she waited as Derek walked over. When he reached out a hand, she flinched away instinctively. He stilled, arm outstretched, before tilting Lizzie's head up and rotating it around to look at her neck. When he let go, Lizzie exhaled loudly, a sound that Derek caught with a frown. He looked Lizzie over once more, eyes lingering on the claw marks on her arms. Without any further acknowledgement, Derek looked at Scott and said, "Let me know when you need me and I'll be there," before walking out of the room.

Just like when he entered, when Derek left, the room was silent.

"And that was Derek Hale," Lydia said simply, which, Lizzie thought, was all that needed to be said.

* * *

**So who has seen the new previews for Season 5? And who is extremely excited? What are you most looking forward to?**

**lilian wyler\- I think you may be one of the nicest commenters EVER. Seriously, thanks for the super sweet support! I'm glad you like the story and are as enthusiastic as I am about Teen Wolf!**

**Thanks as always for reading my story. Please let me know what you think by reviewing, favoriting, and following!**


	22. Chapter 22

Things after Derek left seemed to move in a blur as everyone had different opinions on what they should do next, and Lizzie stood by silently trying to keep up with all of them.

Some of them, Stiles especially, wanted to start planning right away since they had Derek on board, but Deaton, being the only responsible adult present, insisted that they go home and take a breather first. It had been a couple of intense hours and none of them were at their peak to start planning covert operation missions. "Covert operation missions" being Stiles addition of course, because that kid seemed to have to make everything they were doing sound like some cool spy movie.

In reality, they were essentially gearing up to possibly kill her father. Of course they would avoid it if possible, but Lizzie always prided herself on being realistic. If he didn't surrender easily, the pack wasn't going to just sit back and let him hurt other people. Part of her thought that she should be freaking out over the idea more, but really she didn't feel much of anything at the moment. Just numb.

"I should probably check in with my parents first," Kira said as they walked out of the clinic. "I'm sure my Dad noticed that I left early today, and I don't want them to be worried. They already do that enough as it is." At this Kira's face pulled into a small frown and her boyfriend put a reassuring arm around her shoulder.

"Stiles, can you drop us off at school and I can give Kira a lift home on my bike?" Scott asked.

"That I can do," Stiles replied, jabbing a thumb towards his Jeep. "Malia and I will head to the station to check in with my dad too so he's caught up to speed. Do you want to meet at my house a little later? We can have linner and work everything out."

Lydia gave him a blank look. "Linner?"

Stiles turned back towards the group as he opened the driver's side door. "Lunch and dinner. Lunch and dinner. _Linner_." He sighed dramatically.

In response, Lydia rolled her eyes and was about to say something else when Lizzie cut in, "I think I should go back to school." Before anyone could object, she added, "Doesn't the school call your parents if you don't show up? I really don't want to risk it." Everyone's mouths opened in understanding and they laughed as if Lizzie had just said something funny.

Lydia patted the girl on the shoulder. "Oh sweetie, they gave up on enforcing the attendance policy at least a year ago. And don't worry, we can get all caught up when this is over. We'll have some weekend homework sessions or something." The girl seemed particularly excited about that idea; however, Malia looked like she'd rather murder somebody than devote an entire weekend to studying. Seeing Malia's expression Lydia chuckled, "Yes, you too Malia. We can work on your computation skills."

Instead of responding, Malia just got into the Jeep and slammed the door shut before slouching down in her seat in an a sort of anger that only the thought of math homework could due to a teenager. Everyone else got into their respective cars, Lizzie and Liam in Lydia's, and soon were pulling out of the clinic's parking lot.

"We'll stop at my place first so that I can pick up a few things. And if you want Lizzie, we can get you a change of clothes. Something more comfortable maybe?" Lydia suggested, and Lizzie sent her a grateful smile. "Liam, do you need anything from your house?" Lydia asked, looking in her rearview mirror to the backseat.

"Nope, I'm good."

After that they sat in a comfortable silence for the rest of the ride.

* * *

Big was the only word that Lizzie could think of when they pulled up to Lydia's house. Sure, she had sort of seen it before when Stiles was dropping her off previously, but in the dark it didn't look like anything special. During the daytime though it was quite the sight to behold. The lawn leading up to the house was surprisingly large for living in town, and the shrubbery surrounding the exterior was equally fitting to its mammoth size. While it was probably as old as the house Lizzie lived in, the one they were approaching looked expensive old. With its fancy green shutters and light blue siding, it was a sight to see. The garage itself looked to be larger than the entirety of Lizzie's house.

"Geez Lydia, what do your parents do for a living – drug trafficking?"

Lydia didn't seem to deem Liam's joke fit for a response and turned off the ignition and unclicked her seatbelt without a reply. "Do you want to come in or stay out here? I can bring you some clothes to change into when we get to Stiles."

"I'll just stay out here if that's okay. Thanks Lydia," Lizzie said, thinking that she really couldn't take possibly running into any more people, particularly Lydia's parents, right then.

Lydia nodded in acknowledgment and patted her on the shoulder with a sigh. "We're going to get this all figured out." Before shutting her car door she added, "And then when it's done we'll have a shopping trip. All of this stress is making me crave a new pair of shoes!"

Lizzie didn't have the heart to tell Lydia that she wasn't so confident it would all work out. They could make all the plans they wanted, Lizzie just didn't never had luck on her side. The tides could shift. Her father could force her to go back to him, and the Beacon Hills pack could change their mind about wanting to help. A lot could happen in a few days.

"Don't think that way," Liam said from the backseat, and Lizzie started, wondering if she had accidently expressed her thoughts out loud. With a click, Liam unbuckled his seat belt and stuck his head between the driver and passenger seats. He rested his elbows on the back of the chairs and watched Lydia walk up the sidewalk to her house. "They're not going to change their minds about helping you."

His choice of words caught Lizzie's attention. "_We're_," she corrected, "Not they're. You're in the pack too."

Something halfway between a sigh and laugh escaped Liam's lips. "Yeah, it's hard to get used to saying that. I forget that I'm a part of this all." When Lydia got inside, he tilted his head towards Lizzie. "I'm serious though, _we're_ not going to change our minds."

Lizzie looked away, not wanting to argue. Up to that point they had been nothing but kind to her. She was just waiting for it all to change. Every future second, minute, hour … she literally didn't expect anything. She _couldn't_ let herself expect anything. It would just lead to disappointment.

There was a sharp flick of her ear and Lizzie jumped in her seat, whirling around to face Liam. He had an amused grin on his face that turned serious once he realized he had her attention. "I mean it. I promise that we're going to protect you."

Lizzie rubbed at her ear, annoyed. "Someone important once said not to make promises that you can't keep. _So don't_. Besides, you guys have known me for barely a day or two." She made a noncommittal noise. "I'm not crazy enough to think that time has forged some kind of throw-myself-in-front-of-a-bus-for-you friendship."

Liam bit his lip, thinking. "I don't know, I think I'd be willing to throw myself in front of a bus for you."

The car door opened just then as Liam was making his declaration. Lydia slid into the driver's seat and looked between Liam and Lizzie with interest.

"Oh really?" Lizzie laughed, turning back around to face the front. "And I bet that has nothing to with you having supernatural healing abilities." Lydia handed her a grocery bag of clothes and buckled up.

"Eh," Liam said, clicking his own seatbelt shut. "That may be part of the reason, but just because I can heal doesn't mean it wouldn't hurt."

Apparently Lydia decided it was her obligation to offer her two cents into their hypothetical conversation. "Listen Lizzie… when someone offers to throw themselves in front of a bus for you, don't object." Something in the girl's voice spoke from experience and Lizzie decided not to argue anymore. Lydia began to slowly back out of the driveway, turning around to watch out for the mailbox. "Besides, I'm just going to make a leap here and assume that Liam was trying to convince you we're going to help?" Lizzie shrugged, not surprised that Lydia had picked up on it. "And while I realize that you seem to be naturally built against accepting help of any sort, you're going to have to get over it. Because we _are_ helping, and nothing you do is going to change that."

They let Lydia's words rest in the air as they backed out onto the street and began to head to Stiles's house.

If Lizzie were being honest with them, or even herself for that matter, she actually was starting to accept their help… to even welcome it in a way. And that more than anything was kind of frightening.

* * *

**Hello. It's me. **

**If you sang that in Adele's voice, you deserve a Scooby snack. I'll give you a second one if you promise not to be mad at me for not having updated this in... oh... eight months or so. **

**Right. I'm awful. Terrible. I have no excuse except that I have the attention span of a teaspoon and sometimes lose my way. I can't promise it won't happen again, but I will promise that this story will get finished. Someday.**

**Thanks for reading! Please leave a comment letting me know what you think. I've not dipped my toes into this story for quite a long time so I'm a bit rusty. All grammar mistakes are my own and I take full responsibility. They will eventually be fixed, but not today! **

**(Also, feel free to rant about whatever you want with Teen Wolf's latest episode... Lydia for starters. What?!)**

**Have a wonderful day people :)**

_**Note: When I started this story, Liam didn't have a love interest yet. Hayden has now been introduced, but she is not going to be making an appearance in this story and things are going to go as originally planned.**_


	23. Chapter 23

When they got to Stiles's house, Lydia parked the car and started to get out when Lizzie stopped her. "Hey, do you mind if I ask you something?"

Lydia nodded, closing her door again.

"I'll just uh... go inside and see you in a bit," Liam told them awkwardly, and Lizzie held in a laugh. It was a nice gesture to give them privacy, although how much privacy they would actually have was up for debate when there were nosy teenage werewolves right inside the house.

Lydia pulled down her sun visor and flipped open the mirror. "Shoot," she said, starting to dig through her purse and pull out some makeup. At first Lizzie though the other girl was being a little rude as she watched her apply fresh lipstick and mascara, but then realized that Lydia was actually trying to make Lizzie more comfortable by acting nonchalant. The fact that Lydia could already sense her anxiety after knowing her for such a short period of time was startling.

The question had been bothering her for awhile now though, and if she didn't ask it then, she probably never would. So before Lizzie could talk herself out of it, she blurted out, "How did you know I was a werewolf?"

Pausing in the middle of applying her lipstick, Lydia turned to face Lizzie, mouth open wide. "I didn't…" the girl stuttered, before taking a shaky breath and turning back to the mirror to finish swiping on a bright shade of red. She cleared her throat and then said in a much calmer tone, "I don't know what you're talking about. I didn't know until Liam told us."

Lizzie gave Lydia a disbelieving look. "I know that you figured it out in the locker room that one day. I just don't know how… You're not a werewolf, but you're not human either. Come on! I have been honest with you, so shouldn't it work both ways?"

Conceding that Lizzie made a good point, Lydia sighed before capping her lipstick and shutting the sun visor. She eyed Lizzie before seeming to come to some decision. "I'm a banshee."

Lizzie felt stupid for not realizing it sooner. She had been stressing about it for days and really that explained everything. "Okay," Lizzie said, giving Lydia a wide smile, "Sorry to make a big deal out of nothing. Thanks for telling me." Then she reached for the door to get out and join everyone else in the house.

"Wait!" Lydia exclaimed, frowning. "That's it? Don't you have questions or anything?"

"About you being a banshee? No," she replied, shaking her head. "I mean, we had a banshee in my old pack…" A memory suddenly flashed to the forefront of Lizzie's mind, causing her to trail off and close her eyes. "I completely forgot about that part," she mumbled.

"Forgot what?"

Lizzie considered not telling Lydia, but when she opened her eyes and saw the concern in them she knew she couldn't keep it from her. Not after having just played the honesty card to get Lydia to tell her what she was. Lizzie took a steadying breath, then said in a lowered voice, "I forgot about the scream when my father was attacking the pack." Lydia paled visibly at that, but Lizzie went on quickly. "It was the most horrible sound I'd ever heard... He took her out first, our banshee Leah. Just to make the screaming stop I think. She must have known that all of those deaths were coming."

"So you had a banshee in your pack?" the redhead asked, voice soft, and it sounded like she was about to cry. Then her eyes brightened a little and she peered at Lizzie curiously, "Do you know much about them then?"

"Banshees?" Lizzie clarified, nodding her head. "Sure. It was part of our lessons, especially since we were living with one." She saw hope spring onto Lydia's face and added, "Maybe I could tell you some of the stuff, just to see how it matches up with what you already know."

The smile on Lydia's face was such a relief from the sadness a moment ago that Lizzie smiled too. "That would be amazing! I don't really know much about it all, and my only source of information is kind of a psychopath." Lydia laughed maniacally at that, but Lizzie decided it would be better not to ask. "So I guess it's me who has all of the questions, not you."

Lizzie pursed her lips. "Well, I do have just one more…" At Lydia's nod of encouragement, she went on. "If you knew what I was from the beginning, why didn't you tell the others?"

When Lydia opened her car door and got out, Lizzie thought that she wasn't going to get an answer. Maybe she had misread the situation. Lizzie silently scolded herself for pushing it too far and solemnly got out of the car as well.

Lydia appeared to be lost in thought as they walked up the stairs to Stiles's front porch. The door swung open before either could reach for the handle, and Liam popped his head out to let them inside. It looked like he had been waiting there the whole time for them.

Before going in, Lydia turned to look at Lizzie. "Like I said – I'm new to the whole banshee thing and am not always 100% sure with what I'm feeling... But something told me that you weren't a danger, and that it was better to wait for an opportunity to present itself." Lydia shot an obvious glance at Liam, who, as usual, looked lost. The redhead just smirked and patted his shoulder as she walked past him into the house, calling back to Lizzie, "And as usual, I was right."

* * *

_**NicoleJansma \- Thank you so much! I'm glad you like the story :)**_

**So this is pretty short compared to the last chapter, but it's kind of a transition, and I feel a really necessary scene to establish the relationship between Lydia and Lizzie.**

**Lizzie. Lydia. Liam. Leah. I promise all of the L names are not on purpose! They're just the names that naturally fit the characters to me.**

**I've basically watched the preview for next week's Teen Wolf a dozen times. I'll admit I'm a big Stiles/Lydia fan, so I can't wait until they get her out of Eichen house! It's been too long.**

**Please leave follow/favorite and leave feedback letting me know what you think about this story and, if you want, what you think about the latest that's happening on the show.**


	24. Chapter 24

"So, what did your dad say when you talked to him at the station?" Lydia was asking Stiles when Lizzie entered the kitchen.

Stiles opened the door to his refrigerator and began scanning the contents.

"Wait," Lizzie said, having not made the connection before when it was mentioned. "Your dad's a police officer?

"Yep," Stiles replied, sticking his head into the fridge and digging around. When he emerged, he had his arms full with a bag of lunch meat, cheese slices, a head of lettuce, and salad dressing. "Actually, he's the Sherriff." Unceremoniously, Stiles dropped all of the food onto the counter. "Sandwiches anyone?" he asked, opening a cupboard door and pulling out some plates.

_Sherriff._ Not just a police officer, but the head of all police. Lizzie ignored Stiles's question, needing further explanation. "Does your dad, um, know about all of this?" she asked, confused as to why everyone was so nonchalant. Without looking up, Stiles nodded and began packing the lunch meat on slices of bread. "And he's okay with it?" Lizzie heard her scratchy voice go up an octave at the end, squeaking.

Stiles paused in the middle of his sandwich making and looked at Lizzie over his shoulder. "Well, not at first," he admitted with a frown. "But he was more angry that I kept it all from him than anything else. It's nice to have him on our side." Several heads in the kitchen nodded at that last statement. "He doesn't always approve of what we do… It's kind of a checks and balance sort of thing, you know?"

Lizzie thought she was beginning to understand. Not all parents were like her father. They were supportive and helpful. Still, she had killed someone. She couldn't see how anyone could overlook that, especially a police officer. "What about when someone gets hurt? How does he handle that?"

"Ah!" Stiles said, gesturing in the air with a floppy slice of cheese. He turned around to finish making the sandwiches as he answered her. "That was obviously a hard sell with him. Death and killing and everything. We tell him things on a need-to-know basis…" As if sensing Lizzie's next question Stiles added, "Right now, all that my dad needs to know is that we have a potentially dangerous alpha on our territory, and a previous pack member that we are going to protect."

Stiles's straight forward nature sort of threw Lizzie off guard and she settled down into a seat to soak in all that he had said. "Told you," Liam said, sitting next to her with a self-satisfied grin.

"Told you what?" a voice said from the hallway, just as the front door slammed shut. A second later Scott and Kira walked in, hand in hand. "Told you what?" Scott asked again, walking over to the counter and stealing a piece of cheese.

"Hey!" Stiles protested, swatting Scott's hand away, then just rolled his eyes at his best friend. "Fine. Just be useful and grab some cups, will ya?"

Scott didn't even have to ask where they were. He seemed very familiar with the Stilinksi kitchen and Lizzie wondered just how often everyone was over there. She couldn't imagine being that comfortable in someone else's house. Even in her _own_ house she always sort of felt like a stranger.

As Stiles passed out the plates of sandwiches and Scott poured some drinks, everyone pulled up a seat around the table.

"Liam was just reiterating to Lizzie that we were going to help her out," Lydia said, pulling open her sandwich to investigate its contents with a skeptical eye. She poked the meat once before replacing the top slice with a sigh.

Scott was in the middle of biting into his own sandwich, and he covered his full mouth when he replied. "O cor we gonna hel ye," he said, words jumbled by the big bite he'd taken. When he'd swallowed he repeated himself. "Of course we're going to help you."

Lizzie concentrated on her own sandwich, yanking out a slice of cheese. Upon seeing Liam's sandwich which had almost as much cheese as meat, she flung it onto his plate. He didn't even question it, opening his sandwich and adding it to the stack. "Told you," Liam said again. Lizzie cringed as she watched him bite into all of that cheese.

"Alright Lizzie, we've got a problem," Stiles shouted, throwing his half eaten sandwich onto his plate. Lizzie's mouth dropped open in surprise, afraid of what he was going to say. "Explain," he said sternly. Not waiting for a response Stiles rambled on, "I mean, is there something wrong with you?" Lizzie drew back from the table, hackles raised. "How can you not like cheese?"

Lizzie looked down at her plate and quickly shut her mouth. She gave a hesitant laugh before relaxing. "Oh… um… it's just…" she stalled. "It's just that it tastes like feet?" It sounded more like a question than a statement, but Stiles was not paying attention.

"What?" he stuttered, as if she had just insulted his family and not a piece of dairy product. Then, as Lizzie was beginning to realize that he did quite often, Stiles went into a long rant about the merits of cheese and how it was a sacred tradition. Lydia jumped in with some insightful history facts, and Scott supplied the patient, listening ear.

Attention redirected from her, Lizzie leaned back in her seat. She had to stop being so jumpy about everything. Jokes were just a part of normal life. She had grown used to having to always be on the defensive and it was going to take some getting used to.

"Hey," Liam said, leaning towards her slightly so only she could hear. He looked at her from the corner of his eye, obviously picking up on her reaction. "You okay?" When Lizzie nodded, he straightened and picked his sandwich back up. "For what it's worth, I'm totally alright with you not liking cheese."

"Really," Lizzie said, deadpan.

"Definitely, especially if you always give me your extras." Then Liam took another big bite out of his sandwich and Lizzie looked away, laughing.

* * *

**The good news is that I have the next two chapters lined up and *almost* ready to go, so you should be seeing them sometime this week. The bad news is that this is my first update in a month or two, and I can't make any promises on how fast I'm going to continue updating this story after 25 and 26. Like I've said before, it will get done eventually, but I don't know when. It's kind of turning out longer than I anticipate with is both good and bad. **

**To those who commented on my last chapter - thank you! I read them all and take everything you say to heart. It definitely gets my wheels turning to see how everyone is reacting. **

**That said, I can't believe Season 5 is over and we have to wait until summer for the next one. At least we have fanfiction in the meantime!**

**Feedback as always is appreciated, as is follows and favorites so you won't miss out when I update.**


	25. Chapter 25

After finishing off the sandwiches, Stiles decided that they were not enough substance, and none of the werewolves dared to argue. They were always willing to eat. "Don't tell my dad," he said as he retrieved a few bags of chips from the high cupboard, and pushed back into place a row of fiber cereals that were acting as a shield to the junk food. "He's not supposed to eat this stuff."

Everyone was only too happy to oblige and dug into the chips. When Lizzie grabbed another handful of her favorite, Sour Cream and Cheddar, Liam quirked an eyebrow. "This is different," she said shaking the bag in front of him and popping another chip in her mouth. "It's nowhere near the same thing as cold cheese." She cringed at just the thought. "Ick."

Liam rolled his eyes at her poor logic. "Whatever," he said, taking the bag of chips from her possession and helping himself.

After eating, everyone settled into a sort of food coma.

Then they started to talk about Lizzie's father in very specific detail. It didn't take long for Liam to notice the way Lizzie tensed up with every mention of the man, and suggested that they move their discussion into the living room.

"I think I'll stay in here," Lizzie told them when they beckoned her to follow. At their puzzlement, she went on, "I'll answer any questions you have, but I don't really want to hear the nitty gritty details of how you plan to kill my father."

As everyone else looked away, uncomfortable, but acknowledging that that was _exactly_ what they were going to do, Malia looked Lizzie straight in the eye and smiled. "Blunt and to the point," she said, sounding pleased. She walked over to Lizzie and messed up her hair in what was probably perceived by Malia to be an affectionate manner. "Now I know why I like you."

When Malia traipsed off into the living room, Stiles gave a weak smile at Lizzie and watched as Liam patted down Lizzie's frazzled hair. "Progress," Liam muttered under his breath, so that only Lizzie could hear him. When Lizzie snorted, Stiles's eyes narrowed between the two of them, trying to see what he missed.

Scott must have heard as well, because his lip were quirked up in a faint smile as if he was trying not to laugh. "Come on buddy," he said to Stiles, giving him a gentle pat on the back. "Let's go make some plans. You can do that research thing you like so much."

"Yeah… plans," Stiles said, already sounding distracted. "Hey, Lydia! Will you go get that book upstairs so I can look something up?" he asked, turning around and calling into the living room.

"What book?"

Stiles sighed, "You know what I'm talking about. That book! The one with pictures and descriptions on each page and…"

When Lydia interrupted, her voice was shrill. "Stilinski, I know we're not in school right now, but let's try to be a little more specific with our words… Oh wait, do you mean the blue one with the gold design on the front?"

Scott chuckled at the banter and pushed his friend into the living room. "Yes! That book!" Stiles replied smugly, as if Lydia should have known from the beginning. "I need to grab some stuff in my car and I'll be back in a second." There was a loud slam as Stiles went outside, and the light sound of pattering heels as Lydia ran upstairs to fetch the blue and gold book.

"You know, you don't have to stay in here with me," Lizzie told Liam as she got up and took her empty plate over to the sink. She hadn't noticed that Liam had followed her with his own plate and she jumped when she noticed he was standing right behind her.

Liam shrugged. "Yeah, I do. I know I've been a werewolf for almost a year now, but I'm still not used to all of this throwing yourself into danger type of thing."

Lizzie bit her lip, choosing not to remind him that he had just offered to throw himself in front of a train for her – the textbook definition of 'dangerous' in Lizzie's expert opinion. Instead, she said, "I understand," trying to sound sympathetic as she walked over to the kitchen table and began stacking together the other plates. "It would probably be a good thing if you never got used to it. That's not exactly a normal reaction – throwing yourself in harm's way all of the time." She put the stopper into the bottom of the sink and loaded the plates in.

"Maybe not normal for humans," Liam said, letting out a frustrated huff as he hopped up on the counter on the other side of the sink. "But it's normal for werewolves."

As Lizzie turned on the faucet and started to fill the sink with hot water she considered what he'd said. "I'm not so sure anymore what's normal and what's not."

Liam laughed at that and Lizzie looked up at him. "Well," he said, smiling wide, "I would offer to help you, but like I said, I'm a little lacking in the normal department myself." He shrugged his shoulders. "I guess we'll have to be not normal together."

_Together._

It was a word that Lizzie had been thinking about a lot recently. She'd thought she known what it meant - being together with her father in his pack, or even farther back in her memory with her old pack. But when Scott used it to describe his pack before – the way he felt connected to everyone, Lizzie had realized that being together for the werewolves in Beacon Hills was something completely different than anything she had known before. Even as an outsider she could tell that they were something special. They were friends. They were family.

_Family._

"Hey now," Liam said, interrupting her thoughts. "You have that look on your face."

"What look?" Lizzie asked, voice cracking and she quickly ducked her head down to search for a dish rag.

"The look that says you're thinking too hard," Liam answered, sounding serious. When Lizzie chanced a look back at up him, though, he was still smiling, although there was a hint of something else in his eyes. He studied Lizzie for a minute before scissoring apart his legs and pulling out the drawer between them. After digging out a towel, he closed the drawer and brought his legs up to sit cross-legged on the counter. "Come on… you wash and I'll dry."

Lizzie knew that he was trying to distract her, but she let him. 'Together' may have been a newly realized concept for her; however, she was willing to give it a try.

* * *

**Two updates in one day. Surprise. Surprise. They're not the greatest chapters, I know, but they're something at least!**

**Feedback appreciated. **


	26. Chapter 26

When they had finished washing and drying the dishes, Lizzie and Liam returned to the table, sitting in silence. They could hear every word spoken in the living room, which kind of defeated the whole purpose of not joining them. Still, Lizzie felt more at ease with not having everyone watching her and waiting for a reaction. In the kitchen with just Liam, she could fidget nervously and grimace all she wanted as she listened to them work out a plan.

Liam had his head down on the table and for a while, his pulse slowed down enough that Lizzie thought he was sleeping. Every so often, though, she saw his shoulders tense at a particularly dangerous suggestion from Stiles, and a soft sigh of relief escape his lips whenever Scott and Lydia shot him down.

It was dark outside before the pack came back into the kitchen. "Dude," Stiles muttered, shaking Liam's shoulder to get him up. "It's your job to make sure she doesn't leave."

Lizzie frowned at that. It was news to her that Liam was her designated watcher. Liam saw her reaction and scowled. "Dude," he mimicked, stretching his arms over his head and barely missing hitting Stiles' face. "I told you there was no need. She's not going anywhere." Liam finished his stretch with a large yawn and leaned across the table to look at the clock. His eyes widened at the time. "I need to get home soon."

"Actually," Scott said, placing his arms on Liam's shoulders. "I was thinking it would probably be best if we all stayed here tonight." He looked around to see everyone's thoughts. That wasn't something that they had discussed in the living room.

"And do I have any say in this matter?" someone asked. Scott opened his mouth at a loss for words, and Lizzie turned around to see who it was. They had come in through the kitchen door rather than the front, standing right behind Lizzie.

"Hey, dad!" Stiles waved, plastering on a smile. Then he gestured to the stranger sitting at their kitchen table. "This is Lizzie."

Lizzie waited for the Sherriff to respond first. From the pursing of his lips, Stiles had obviously told him about her. After a moment, the Sheriff smiled and stuck out his hand to shake hers. "Nice to meet you, Lizzie."

"You too sir," Lizzie said, although she couldn't bring herself to smile back. She was probably even more nervous than the older man. It was great that Stiles trusted his dad enough to tell him about werewolves, but Lizzie wasn't confident the Sheriff's acceptance would extend to those outside of the Beacon Hills pack.

When they let go, Stiles's father turned to his son. "Now, what's this about everyone staying over?"

"Ah," Stiles said, glancing over at Scott for direction since it was his idea. "Well… given the circumstances…" At the word 'circumstances,' everyone's gaze landed right on Lizzie and Stiles coughed not very subtly. "Scott…" At that, Scott elbowed him in the side and Stiles jerked away, correcting himself, "_I_ thought it would be a good idea for everyone to stay here tonight."

There was no way that Mr. Stilinski would agree. Stiles hadn't even put up a good argument. So, Lizzie was shocked when she saw the man begin to nod his head in agreement. "I think you're right. I'd feel better if you were all here tonight. Safety in numbers." There was a knock on the front door and everyone froze. Everyone save for Mr. Stilinski, who continued talking as he went to answer it. "Actually, that's why I invited over Melissa to stay, too. No one should be alone for the next few days."

Lizzie turned to Liam for an explanation, but by then Mr. Stilinski had already returned to his spot in the kitchen, a woman dressed in hospital scrubs following shortly behind.

"Hey mom," Scott said, wrapping an arm affectionately around the woman's shoulder. The similarities were striking with both having dark hair, tan skin, and the same smile. Melissa McCall ruffled her son's hair in return and looked over the group. Her gaze lingered on Lizzie and turned a questioning eye to her son. "Oh sorry. This is Lizzie." Scott looked more concerned about the introduction than Stiles had, and she wondered briefly if Melissa McCall knew about her son being a werewolf.

She would have to, though, if she was spending the night at the Stilinski house. Lizzie had only just met the Sheriff, but he didn't seem to be the type to hide things.

"Nice to meet you, Mrs. McCall," Lizzie said, forcing a smile where she hadn't with the Sheriff.

"You can call me Melissa," the woman replied. She looked over the rest of the kids in the room. "Have you all gotten permission from your parents?" When everyone shook their heads no, she took a step back from Scott to glare. "I know it's safer to have the pack together right now, but we don't want to make anybody's parents worried in the process, do you understand?"

Although she hadn't been speaking to him, Stiles replied, "Yes, ma'am." Melissa smiled warmly at him and wrapped him in a big hug. "Alright, now everyone pull your phones out now and start making those calls." Immediately, Liam, Lydia and Kira whipped out their cellphones and began calling their parents. "You too sweetie," Melissa told Lizzie.

"Actually mom, she…" Scott began, but the sound of the telephone ringing interrupted him.

Before the second ring, the Sheriff had answered the phone. "Hello?"

"Hi."

Lizzie stood up rapidly, almost knocking over her chair. It was just one word, but she would have recognized that voice anywhere. The Sheriff hadn't noticed Lizzie's reaction saying, "Yes, hello. Um, can I help you?"

"I was hoping to speak to my daughter."

By then Lizzie had her hand on the knob of the kitchen door, ready to run. The Sheriff looked over to her at the sound of the knob turning and froze. Realization sparked in his eyes, and he mouthed "your father?" Lizzie nodded rapidly, beginning to shake.

He had found her. She didn't know how, but he already knew where she was. As Lizzie looked around at the others in the kitchen, she was suddenly struck by her stupidity. Of course he knew. He knew everything. And there she was, eating sandwiches and doing the dishes. She was putting all of those around her in danger.

There was no other option. She had to get out of there. Before anyone could stop her, Lizzie flung open the kitchen door.

She had stepped a foot outside when someone grabbed the sleeve of her shirt. "Lizzie, stop!" It was Liam. Of course it was. Overwhelmed by the terror and panic from hearing her father's voice on the other end of the phone, Lizzie laughed. It was a hollow laugh without any real force behind it. She laughed at the impossible nature of the situation. She laughed at how no matter where she went, her father would always find her. She laughed that every time she tried to run, it was always Liam pulling her back.

Sherriff Stilinski was still talking on the phone, but Lizzie couldn't make out any of the words over the sound of blood rushing in her ears. The Sherriff's back was turned towards her, and Scott started to make his way around the kitchen table, brows arched in concern.

Liam held up a hand to stop him, though, causing his alpha to freeze in surprise. "Wait! Just... just give us a minute." Liam said, one hand wrapped around Lizzie's wrist and the other reaching for the door handle. Seeing Scott's hesitation to let them out of his sight, Liam added, "We'll stay right on the other side, okay? You'll be able to hear if anything happens."

With reluctance, Scott let them go.

As soon as the door was closed, Lizzie tried to yank free from Liam's grip and make a run for it. He seemed to have anticipated that; however, and latched on even tighter, causing Lizzie to yelp in pain as his fingers pressed into her injuries.

Liam looked down in horror when he realized what he had done, and immediately let go. "Shoot Lizzie, I'm sorry."

She should have taken that as her chance to escape, but instead she just pulled her arms back and rubbed at them gently. There was a slam inside as Sherriff Stilinski hung up with her father. She sucked in a deep breath, and then another, letting the soft breeze outside wash over her and settle her racing heart. "It's nothing," she said, brushing him off, readying to explain herself - why she had dashed out of the kitchen.

"Look, I get it," Liam said. When she went to protest he cut her off. "No really, I do. But remember?" He jabbed a thumb at his chest. "_Bus._"

It wasn't the word so much as the serious way he said it that made Lizzie laugh. And he was right. He _did_ get it. Somehow. Anyone else would have assumed she had been worried for her own safety, but Liam realized it wasn't about that. She wasn't concerned for _herself_ so much as she was concerned for _them_.

With a relieved smile, Liam's eyes darted behind him to the kitchen door. "We should probably get back in there before Scott freaks out."

That caused Lizzie to laugh again, as she could, in fact, feel Scott's stress from the other side of the door.

With one last breath of the outside air, she let Liam lead her back into the kitchen.

* * *

To the credit of everyone in the kitchen, no let on what had just happened as Liam and Lizzie returned to their abandoned seats. They were quite the impressive group and for not the first time, she wondered just how often this sort of thing happened in Beacon Hills. Lizzie was particularly impressed by the Sherriff, who did not look at all frazzled by just talking to a murderous werewolf on the phone. He looked at Lizzie, as if expecting her to ask about the phone call, but Lizzie just shook her head and stared down at the table. She didn't need someone to tell her what was said; she had a pretty good idea.

"Melissa, why don't we go in the living room to talk for a second?" he said, walking past Lizzie and patting her on the shoulder, causing her to jump in her seat at the contact. The Sheriff's mouth turned down into a frown at her reaction and Lizzie could see Melissa's face do the same. Lizzie watched them walk out of the room and tuned in so she could hear what they were saying. "Actually, maybe we should go outside," the Sheriff said, turning around briefly to catch Lizzie's eye with a small smile before leading Melissa out the front door.

When Lizzie knew that she wouldn't be able to hear their conversation, she focused her attention on the pack members calling their parents. Lydia already had her phone put away and was sitting down beside Lizzie. "No one answered. I left a voicemail telling her I was at Stiles doing some research and it was getting late so I was going to stay over." Tucking a piece of hair behind her ear she felt the need to add, "It's not really a lie. I _was_ doing research, just not on anything related to school… She won't care."

The brief inflection in Lydia's voice told Lizzie that not caring was a recurring theme in the Martin household. Without thinking, Lizzie surprised herself by reaching over and putting a hand on top of Lydia's. Lydia gave Lizzie's hand a tight squeeze in thanks for the gesture.

"After everyone else has gotten permission from their parents, why don't we go upstairs and get you something more comfortable to wear?" Lydia suggested. "We can see if any of the clothes that I got you will fit."

"If not, I've got a ton of stuff here that may work," Malia offered.

Lizzie wasn't at all surprised that Malia stayed at the Stilinski's frequently. From her reaction earlier in the economics classroom, and just in other little subtleties, it seemed that Malia and Stiles were practically attached at the hip.

When Liam groaned, Lizzie swiveled her head to look at him, his hand clenching on the table in frustration. "I know it's a school night," he said, obviously annoyed. His parents, it seemed, were obviously logical adults and did not see any reason for their teenage son to stay over on a school night.

Listening in on the other conversations, Lizzie determined that only Stiles and Scott had told their respective parents about the werewolf thing. Lizzie didn't blame the others. If her father wasn't a werewolf, there was not a chance that she would ever have told him.

Liam groaned again, apparently not getting anywhere. "Psstt…" Lizzie whispered, tapping his clenched fist to get the boy's attention. When he turned to look at her, she said, "Tell them that Finstock just assigned you a presentation today in class. It was last minute and you don't have it finished yet." Liam's hand released its fist and he gave Lizzie a grateful smile. Within seconds of complaining about Finstock's project and reminding his parents of what a pain the coach was, Liam had permission.

"We really do need to finish, though," Liam reminded Lizzie when he had hung up, grinning from ear to ear that he was allowed to stay over. Then it was Lizzie's turn to groan. "Come on! I let you sleep in class. You've got to do your fair share of the work, too."

At the reminder of sleeping, Lizzie's mind flashed to the realization that she would be sleeping at the Stilinski's, too. She already had a hard enough time going to sleep in her own bed, knowing the nightmares that awaited her there. Now she would be sleeping someplace different surrounded by strangers.

Liam knocked on the table in front of Lizzie. "You know, we could always pull an all-nighter." Although his tone was joking, his face told Lizzie that he was serious. He must have seen the panic on her face at the thought of going to sleep. Sometimes it was like he could read her mind.

"No one will be pulling an all-nighter," Melissa McCall said, returning with the Sheriff. Lizzie could tell that she was purposely not looking at Lizzie, no doubt the Sherriff having properly informed her about Lizzie's less than ideal situation.

"Did your parents say it was alright?" Melissa asked Kira, just as the girl slipped her cell phone back in her pocket.

Kira gave Scott's mom a tight smile. "Were they okay with the idea? No. But they said it was alright." Kira laughed drily and then brightened a little. "My dad was okay with it more than my mom, though. He really likes Scott." At that confession, she looked over at her boyfriend who had a dopey smile on his face. Lizzie couldn't imagine anyone's parents _not_ liking Scott... aside from the werewolf factor. "Oh, and my mom said that she has some extra weapons in the basement if we need any."

Apparently Kira's parents_ did_ know about werewolves then. How convenient that they had an arsenal of weapons in their basement.

Seeing that everyone was done with their calls, Lydia said, "Come on," and motioned for Lizzie to follow. "You can have your study partner back in a minute!" she told Liam as they headed upstairs.

* * *

**As always, all mistakes are mine. I've already gone over this a few times for editing, but I'm sure there are more mistakes I've missed. I just don't have the energy or desire to be a grammar fanatic right now.**

**So, if it seems that I'm being vague about what the plan is concerning Lizzie's father, that's because I am. I think that given the situation, Lizzie already has enough concerns on her mind at the moment, and having to think about how they may be possibly killing her father would just send her over the edge. It will happen eventually, but she needs some recovery time first. And although a lot of chapters have passed (me and my short chapters, but what are you going to do?), not a lot of time has passed yet in the actual story.**

**Thanks to everyone who has been reading! Like I always say - please leave a comment! I love hearing your thoughts, even if it's just a short word or two (although the longer the better - I really should follow my own advice and make longer chapters, hmmm?). **

**Anyways... yes... feedback... etc. etc. Have a good night!**


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